The Seer
by coffee dazed
Summary: sort of AU but not really. difficult to explain, please just read.
1. Chapter 1

**The Seer**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, this is just for fun

**Note: **this is just an idea that I had and it's still in its vague early stages. I just ask that u sort of put preconceptions of the legend on hold (especially the tv show) and take this fic at face value. I set it in a time/place where the events on the show occurred, the only exception being that Geoffrey of Monmouth and Lancelot does not exist.

* * *

Slim fingers turned pages that had begun to brown with age and blue-grey eyes widened as they took in the words on the pages. Dark head shook in disbelief. Merlin could not believe what he was reading, he had to find Arthur!

* * *

"Merlin, what on earth are you talking about?" asked Arthur exasperatedly. He allowed himself to be led to the library by his servant who had burst into his chambers prattling about some book or another and refusing to leave until he went with him. They slowed as they approached the heavy doors of the library and Merlin pushed them open and stepped inside. "Hmm, I had no idea you even had time to read. I must find more for you to do in future," he added thoughtfully before looking over to see his servant rushing towards a leather-bound book that had been left open on a table.

"Arthur, over here. Look at this." Merlin beckoned to the prince.

Arthur sauntered over to him, his curiosity now slightly piqued. He peered over the other young man's shoulder, trying to make out what had agitated Merlin so much.

"What am I looking at? I've never seen this book before." To be honest, the Crown Prince of Camelot had never seen most of the books in the library. He had always been much more interested in swordcraft and honing his skills with weaponry – exercising his intellectual muscles more than was required had never really appealed to him.

Merlin gave him an impatient look then leafed backwards through the book before stopping at a chosen page and jabbing a finger at it. "Just read it."

The blond man bent his head closer to the book and did as he was bid. There was only silence for a few minutes as Arthur read and re-read the words, turning to the next page then back again.

"What is the meaning of this? Is this a book of magic?" Arthur demanded, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"No," said Merlin, then hesitated. "I don't know. I've never seen this before."

"Then how did you find it?"

"Gaius asked me to find a book for him, about herbs, he's trying to make up new healing draughts and…"

"Get to the point, Merlin!"

"Oh, yes, well, I was searching and I pulled out this book to see but since it had no title, I looked inside and that's what was in it." The sorcerer's words came out in a rush. He watched Arthur uncertainly. "What are we going to do?"

Arthur ran a hand through his hair as his brain struggled to make sense of the situation. "I don't know. How do we know this is even real and not a hoax?"

They stared at each other in silence, completely at a loss. After a while, Arthur spoke. "Who the hell is Lancelot?"

* * *

The title-less and author-less book which had confounded the two men was a mystery. It told a tale of a great love between a prince and a maid servant and their rise to greatness. It spoke of a knight who would come between them and bring about the downfall of their kingdom. The book named the characters. The book named the kingdom of Camelot.

**

* * *

Note: **_ok, I still don't know how/if I will progress with this, ideas kinda stopped at this point. _

_Please review and let me know ur opinions x_


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **thanks to guardian izz for her reviews and ideas :D

I haven't decided what time frame to set this fic in yet so have not put in anything to definitely mark events after Merlin's arrival in Camelot

_**cuisse: **the bit of armour that covers the upper part of leg/thigh_

* * *

"And so by reinforcing our men along that ridge, we can repel any attacks from Odin," concluded Uther Pendragon. He glanced at his son but where he expected to see a look of affirmation, he saw only a distant gaze. "Arthur? Did you hear what I said?"

"Hmm?" was the vague reply.

"I said that we should wait until winged horses fly down from the sky bearing gold and jewels before we march through Albion sprinkling faerie dust in our wake. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, that's a good idea."

"Arthur!"

The blond prince jumped at the sharp exclamation and found his father regarding him with a raised eyebrow and deep bemusement.

"I'm sorry, Father, I was miles away," he apologised.

"Clearly. Just send Sir Leon here, I will send the dispatch with him." Uther turned away.

* * *

Suitably chastised, Arthur went to fetch the knight. He had been more than a little distracted of late. Ever since Merlin had shown him the mysterious book which told a tale of his life…except it wasn't his life…was it?

He was also disturbed to find himself thinking of Morgana's maid in a way he had never considered before. According to the new-found book, they were meant to fall deeply in love and live together in peace and happiness… for a time anyway.

Certainly, Guinevere was comely in an understated way, pretty without seemingly aware of it. She was, he supposed, what you would call a natural beauty. Her mistress, on the other hand, was undeniably beautiful and had learnt from an early age how to use her natural charms to her best advantage. In addition, it was a forgone conclusion that one day Camelot would be ruled by King Arthur and Queen Morgana.

Moreover, a maid was a maid and it had never crossed Arthur's mind that the heir to Camelot would even contemplate an assignation with someone of such an inferior status to his. Now, though, the seeds had been planted in his mind and he would catch himself studying her in every way from her kind demeanour, seemingly endless patience and generosity to her determined loyalty to her friends and the principles of justice. Arthur also couldn't help but notice the soft lines and curves of her petite figure and he would find himself wondering what lay beneath her simple dresses more often than he liked.

* * *

Gwen hummed a quiet tune to herself as she made her way along the cloisters to run an errand to the kitchen. Lost in her daydreams, she only looked up when she was roused by the sounds of booted feet becoming ever louder. It was Prince Arthur and his servant walking towards her in the opposite direction.

She straightened her back a little more and smiled shyly as they approached. Gwen had been taken by Merlin ever since his arrival in Camelot and standing up to the arrogant young prince. She had fallen for his mild-mannered demeanour and resolute nature in the face of Arthur's bully-boy antics but she couldn't quite bring herself to overtly demonstrate her feelings for him.

It wasn't simply because she was unsure of his feelings for her but also that she just wouldn't know how to go about doing it even if she were inclined to take more direct action. Flirting did not come naturally to the maid and any rare attempts she had made in the past had failed miserably and left her feeling like an over-enthusiastic teenager who was being patiently humoured by the object of her affection. On one occasion, Gwen had remembered a tip given to her by a friend about batting eyelashes to show interest but all she achieved was to leave the man in question convinced that she had a rather unappealing facial tic.

Against her will, she felt her smile grow wider as Merlin came ever nearer to her but her sunny expression faltered as she saw the intense looks she received from both men. There was something else in their eyes, almost like a question but about what she did not know and the piercing gaze that Arthur shot her suddenly made her feel very vulnerable.

"My lord," she bobbed a curtsey to the Prince. "Merlin," she acknowledged the servant. Gwen made to move on after Merlin returned her greeting but was startled to hear her name spoken by Arthur.

"Guinevere." He hadn't really thought farther than that, didn't know what to say. Apart from giving orders, Arthur didn't have much to do with servants – Merlin, of course, being the exception.

Gwen looked enquiringly at him, "Yes, my lord?"

Arthur glanced over to Merlin for help. For a fleeting moment, the sorcerer considered leaving his master floundering but the silent plea won over his helpful nature and he smoothly stepped in.

"We, I mean Prince Arthur, was wondering if you could help fix some armour. It's just that we need it quite quickly and the armourer is already too busy with work for the King." Merlin let the sincerity of his request shine through as he looked hopefully at her.

She knew that she could never refuse Merlin anything even on such short notice. She inclined her head in assent. "Of course, that will be fine. I will ask Lady Morgana if she requires me for the rest of the day. If I do not see you later, bring what needs to be fixed late this afternoon to my house."

"Thanks, Gwen," said Merlin as she hurried off to finish her errand.

* * *

Gwen fumed a little as she departed, it was alright for Merlin to ask the favour on Prince Arthur's behalf but she thought he might have said something what with him standing right there and all. _Typical arrogant nobles_, she huffed to herself.

* * *

A few light taps on her door and Gwen answered it, self-consciously smoothing the front of her dress with her hands. She sternly told herself that it was only Merlin and that any pretensions she might have of vanity would be lost as soon as she went to work at the hot fire of the forge.

Her welcoming grin disappeared when she opened the door and found not Merlin but Arthur, Prince Arthur, standing there – alone and holding a sackcloth bundle under his arm. Gwen poked her head out of the door and checked around in case Merlin was merely standing to one side of his master but there was nobody else there.

Remembering her manners, she bowed a little and stepped to the side to allow Arthur inside. "My lord, please come in. I'm sorry, I was expecting Merlin."

Arthur's blue eyes were apologetic as he spoke. "He had to do a few things for Gaius, I hope you don't mind that I came instead."

"No, no, of course, you are always welcome. It's just, um, unexpected." Gwen was getting flustered and avoided his eyes. She held out her arms for the armour. "Can I see?"

"Oh, yes, here it is. He fumbled out the steel from the sack. "It's the cuisse, it got bashed during practice."

Glad to have something which she knew how to do and to concentrate on, the blacksmith's daughter examined the damaged item. "It's not too bad, just a few dents that need straightened out," she said reassuringly.

Arthur said nothing as he returned a look of what seemed to be gratitude. In truth, he was relieved.

* * *

"_Merlin, you idiot!" the prince glared at his servant._

"_What was that for?" responded Merlin indignantly. "I just saved your dignity."_

"_I don't have any damaged armour!"_

"_Well, then, we just need to damage some."_

_Merlin picked out a not-too big piece of armour and passed Arthur his short sword. "Right, do some damage to it."_

_A good couple of whacks and Arthur had achieved the desired result. _

_He didn't know why he should feel nervous but he did as he made his way down to the lower town to Gwen's house and he took a deep breath before knocking._

**

* * *

Note: **I think this is going to be a slow-burner as I try and figure out what I want to do with arwen in this fic

x


	3. Chapter 3

At last, Gaius's seemingly endless supply of chores had finished and Merlin hurried up to his small room where he flopped face-down onto his bed. Eyes closed, he took a few blissful breaths before remembering something. He reached a long arm down and patted underneath his bed until his hand drew out the item he was looking for. Merlin and Arthur had managed to sneak out the book of prophecy and the prince had given it to his servant not really for safe-keeping but because he would rather give Merlin the tedious task of reading and trying to figure out the details.

The dark-haired man propped the book up on a pillow before opening it. He couldn't quite get his head around the idea of Arthur and Gwen together and if so, then what was the fate of Morgana? More importantly, who was it who had written the book in the first place? There were too many questions and not enough answers.

As he read, Merlin absorbed the words on each page and he could almost feel his brain expanding. Finally, he had had enough. The sorcerer hastily closed the book and returned it to its hiding place before rushing out.

* * *

"Where are you? I need your help," he called into the darkness, his echoes reverberated around the enormous cave. Merlin waited for a few moments before calling again. "Can you hear me?"

A gentle flapping of wings and then Kilgarrah, the Great Dragon and last of his kind, landed on the rocky outcrop before him.

"Young warlock, I did not expect to see you so soon." Kilgarrah's voice boomed. It was deep and gravelled with the wisdom of ages long past and the knowledge of ages still to come.

"I need your help," repeated Merlin.

"Then ask, but I cannot guarantee my assistance." The Great Dragon folded his forearms and laid his head down upon them. Merlin would have laughed at the resemblance of a puppy doing the same as it awaited its master's bidding but this was Kilgarrah – a creature born of magic who had seen sights that one could only imagine and who could bring about the destruction of the world purely by not saying a word which might avert disaster. He did no-one's bidding... at least, not without a price.

"Please, you must tell me. I found a book, it speaks of Arthur's destiny. It says he will marry Gwen and she will become queen but it also says she will fall for someone else and it will bring about the downfall of Arthur and Camelot. Is this true?"

"A book you say," pondered Kilgarrah and Merlin could not tell if he was being mocked. "And where was this book?"

"In the library, shelved amongst volumes that had not been touched for a long time." Merlin knew better than to try to hurry the magical creature. He had learnt from past experience that the more he showed his impatience, the longer the dragon would take to answer.

"I see," a long talon tapped a scaly chin thoughtfully.

Merlin suppressed the urge to stamp his foot.

"Please, tell me. Is it true?" beseeched Merlin.

"It may be," conceded Kilgarrah.

"_May_ be?"

"I'm sorry, young warlock. The book was written in a time when magic was still strong in the land and there were many prophecies and many seers who were able to forsee not just _the _future but the different futures which might emanate from one source. That is what I mean when I say it may be true. Whether or not this particular one comes to pass depends on which path is chosen by each player in this great game." With that, the Great Dragon stretched his wings and rose high in the air. His last words floated down to Merlin. "Choose wisely. Your destiny and that of the witch depends on it."

"What witch?" cried the sorcerer.

Merlin shook his head in despair. The answers he had got were no answers at all. Only more questions.

* * *

Arthur watched astounded as Gwen heated the metal and beat the dents before looking over the steel then returning it to the forge to continue the repair. He could not believe that so slight a figure as hers could handle the hot fire and heavy hammers of her father's trade but handle it she did and with great skill.

He could see how she would measure the metal to the appropriate part of his anatomy with her eye to judge the progress of her work.

"It will take a while to cool properly before I can accurately measure it to you."

Arthur looked puzzled. "Do you not just plunge it into water? They do that with horseshoes and things, I've seen it." He said this authoritatively.

_Ever the prince_, thought Gwen. "Yes, they do for thicker and sturdier pieces of work. But this is plate armour. The steel has been beaten and thinned enough that plunging red-hot steel into cold water will only make it brittle and weaken it rather than the opposite. I can use sand to help it cool but it will still take some time," she explained patiently.

"Oh," was Arthur's abashed reply. He felt gawky around this composed young woman and he felt even sillier at being presumptuous enough to tell her how to do something she clearly knew more about.

"Would you like something to eat and drink whilst we wait?" she asked coolly.

"Thank you, that would be kind." He followed her out of the forge and back to her house.

* * *

A few hours later, after a light repast during which the small talk became more relaxed and the silences less self-conscious, evening had settled and they returned to the forge with lit torches to see Gwen's handiwork. The metal had cooled and the maid took the cuisse and knelt to place the armour around Arthur's thigh and check its fit.

As her hands touched his thigh, she had to manoeuvre the armour until it sat in the right position and at times, it meant that her hand would be placed, albeit briefly, high on his inside leg. For the first time that evening, Gwen felt _really _nervous. The hard muscles and warmth of his leg were very distracting and she was finding it hard to think clearly.

Arthur tried to remain nonplussed as light fingers adjusted the metal plate around his thigh, sliding here and there to make sure the position was correct and he felt his throat become dry whenever he felt her touch move higher. He told himself not to be immature, after all, it wasn't as if he had never known the touch of a woman before and this was a purely professional visit. _Yes, definitely professional_, Arthur assured himself as he focused on looking straight ahead and not down at the young woman moving around him.

* * *

Finally, Gwen decided that the armour had been repaired to her own exacting standards since poorly fitting armour usually resulted in limited movement as well as badly chafed skin despite any padding beneath. She looked up at Arthur with a satisfied grin just as Merlin arrived at the forge in time to see his friend and fellow servant kneeling before Camelot's Crown Prince with a smile on her face.

At Merlin's appearance, Gwen quickly stood up as a flush spread from her neck up to her face. Her cheeks felt as hot as the fire she had been working at and she was glad for the dimmer evening light. Although still quite innocent, she was not so naïve as to not know how the scene might have looked to an observer – she had heard stories told by other, more experienced women and Gwen did not want Merlin to get the wrong idea about her.

Arthur cleared his throat and was slightly confused about his emotions. He was both glad that Merlin's presence now lightened the tension that had been building and also annoyed that Merlin had interrupted the tension that had been building.

Gwen took the cuisse and replaced it in the sack. "It's all repaired now. Would you like to stay for something to drink?" she addressed Merlin hopefully.

"Sorry, Gwen but I must return soon, I promised Gaius I would help him early tomorrow before I attend Arthur," he shot his master a reproachful look.

* * *

Arthur caught the fleeting look of disappointment before Gwen hid it with a consoling smile and he felt an emotion that was unfamiliar. He found that he had actually enjoyed the maid's company, finding out a bit more about her and taking pleasure in her calming presence. Arthur correctly deduced that the young woman had feelings for his servant and at that revelation, the prince was disconcerted to find that he felt something close to jealousy. _Imagine! The heir to Camelot jealous of his servant! Surely not???_


	4. Chapter 4

In her spare time that morning, Gwen wandered down to the practise field seeking out Merlin for a bit company. He was assisting Arthur as usual with weapons and by being a general dogsbody.

She waited patiently for her fellow servant to find a few free moments and in the meantime, settled to watch Camelot's heir putting his knights through their paces. As Gwen watched the blond man drill the knights then easily defeat each one's challenge, she realised for the first time just how perfect a killing machine he was. Of course, she had known that he had been trained in weaponry and warcraft as soon as he could stand on his own two chubby baby feet. Goodness knows, he was keen enough to tell anyone willing to listen and she had seen him compete and usually win at various tourneys but this was somehow different.

To see him more than match every type of weapon used against him and demonstrate his obviously superior skill sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. Gwen could never imagine that he would kill in malice or with evil intent but it unnerved her slightly to know the deadly power that lay within the man.

A few more scuffles later and the prince called for a quick break whereupon Merlin passed him a waterskin while simultaneously catching the helmet that Arthur carelessly cast towards him. After checking that his master had all he needed for the time being, Merlin trotted over to Gwen.

* * *

The sorcerer had known for some time that the maid had a crush on him but he did not return her fancy. She was definitely pretty and charming and had all the qualities desirable in a woman but Merlin just did not see her in that way. This was Gwen, his friend who he regarded more as a sister than a potential lover. More importantly, it appeared that she was to be the future queen, wife of Arthur and from what he could tell, the prince appeared to have begun taking an interest in Gwen – not that he would admit it.

As if he had read his mind, Merlin saw Arthur coming towards them.

"Merlin," called Arthur, "go see that my lances are ready for the jousting practice."

The sorcerer smiled back, "I already have, sire, they are all prepared."

Gwen gave Merlin a little look of pride which Arthur found irrationally annoying. It simply could not be that he had any feelings of _that_ nature for the maid! However, no matter what he told himself, that was indeed the case. He gave Merlin a _look_ which the dark-haired man picked up on and made himself scarce with a, "I'll just go check on the horses as well. I'll see you later on, Gwen."

She stared after him with a puzzled expression, Merlin had been acting a little out of character lately. Gwen thought it might just be paranoia but she definitely thought it had something to do with her. Perhaps, she should have listened to her inner voice early on and put a stop to her silly infatuation. She wasn't the type who girl who got into romantic entanglements anyway, that was something that happened to beautiful women, women like the Lady Morgana.

* * *

Arthur was unable to stop himself from going over towards where Merlin stood with the woman who was on his mind every waking moment. She also haunted his dreams and more often than not, he would wake up a combination of happy, confused and satiated until he realised that no, she was not lying beside him and all that he had was a mirage of what he thought was the warmth and touch of her body. However, it wasn't just lust that he experienced. He considered her to be the nicest thing to have happened to him in a long time and whether or not he believed the book of prophecy, he found that he did not mind in the slightest if the part about him and Gwen was true.

"Thank you again for the cuisse. It's as good as new." Arthur didn't know why but he found it difficult to meet her eyes.

She smiled politely, "You're welcome, I was happy to help." A little bewildered line appeared between her brows. He had already thanked her several times, there was no need for him to do so again. They stood together for a few seconds, an awkward silence hanging over them before Gwen gave a bow and made her excuses to leave.

Arthur watched helplessly as she departed. He had never had trouble speaking to women before, and he had practiced enough on various ladies since he was old enough to be interested in the female of the species with no small amount of success. A ladies maid should have been no bother at all.

_It must just be a passing fancy_, he would soon grow weary of it and then he could turn his mind to more serious contenders. Morgana had looked stunning at his coronation as Crown Prince of Camelot and there was a lot of hope riding on a union between them. His regard for his father's ward was tinged with more than a little romantic ardour but there was something that did not quite sit right with him. At other times, they were more like siblings and the furthest thing from his mind was the thought of her as his bride. It all just felt the tiniest bit wrong and he really wasn't clear on Morgana's view of the situation.

* * *

Another evening and another occasion to be dressed up to impress visiting dignitaries to Camelot. Morgana was bored of it, there was rarely anything new and exciting about these occasions – a case of same thing, different faces. She wished she could get out of attending these events but that, she supposed, was the price of being the King's Ward. The only thing she could do to make things interesting for herself was to wear something that would tease the male guests and make her the object of envy to the female guests.

Tonight, the guests collectively gasped as she made her entrance in an emerald-green gown that was slashed in a deep 'V' down her back and a similar neckline that was not _quite_ so deep as to be vulgar. Organza sleeves billowed out to be caught at her wrists by gold embroidered cuffs. Matching fine golden chains were threaded through her up-pinned dark hair. She was, in a word, enchanting.

Morgana enjoyed the admiration that she garnered but with no fresh male objects to divert her, she decided to direct her attention to Sir Leon. Out of Camelot's knights, she considered him to be the most appealing. He was handsome, charming, witty and courageously loyal almost to a fault. She was not blind to the fact that people disapproved of her taking interest in other men but her supposed future as Queen of Camelot was one she had heard since childhood and she was not altogether sure that that was the future she wanted either. She could do a lot worse than have Sir Leon as an alternative.

For an individual as spirited and feisty as Morgana, there was still too much that she wanted to do, there were too many places she wanted to see – places she had heard tales of but not had a chance to go to. No, Camelot's walls were not strong enough to hold her and they would not contain her forever. For a long time now, she had felt a restlessness deep within her soul and it disturbed her to not know the source of it. All she knew was that it was somehow related to her nightmares and it would not be long before something happened. Something had to give.

* * *

_**How's the story going? let me know x**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: **after quite a problem with writers block for this fic, have finally managed to update.

Thanks to _guardian izz _and _TheAngelGirl1992 _for their suggestions and ideas

* * *

_Bored, bored, bored. _Arthur sighed to himself as he leaned idly against a pillar in the dim far corner of the Great Hall whilst simultaneously hiding from his father and numerous young women keen to try their hand at enticing and keeping the prime catch that was the heir to the throne of Camelot. He was currently using Sir Leon as a screen to shield him from the view of the majority of guests. Poor Sir Leon had only been passing by on his way to refill his goblet via a more discreet route rather than pushing through the busy crowd of guests in the middle of the hall. Now he found himself obliged to keep the Crown Prince of Camelot company without alerting anyone else to the fact.

"Sire, may I be so bold as to ask why you are back here instead of talking to Camelot's visitors?" The tall knight began turning to face the prince.

"Ssst," hissed Arthur waving his hands at Leon. "Don't turn around." He hurriedly crouched down behind the trusted knight while putting his hands on the other man's back to keep him facing out towards the room.

"My lord, what is going on?" Leon's expression was one of pure confusion.

"Shhh, don't talk!" Arthur peered out cautiously from behind his newly acquired 'wall' before ducking back when he spotted one or two people glancing in his general direction. "Act casual," he ordered.

"Casual?" Leon tried to speak quietly out of the corner of his mouth without moving his lips.

"Yes, you know, nonchalant. And don't talk."

"I know what it means, Arthur." The knight dropped the use of titles. The situation he found himself in was not covered by any protocols he had been taught. "I meant what are y-… oh, never mind." He adopted what he thought was a nonchalant pose, shoulder against pillar, one hand on hip, the other raised a wine goblet mid-way to his shoulder as he coolly surveyed around him. All was well for several minutes as Leon tried to think of a way to get himself out of his predicament. It wasn't that he minded helping his superior, of course not! It was just that he had been spending a very pleasant evening in the company of the Lady Morgana and he really hadn't intended for it to end prematurely in this manner. He had never spent much time in conversation with her before – there had been no need or opportunity – but he was flattered when the beautiful young woman sought him out. Surprised and pleased when the conversation and laughter flowed very easily between them, Leon was fairly sure that she would be present in a few of his future dreams.

Movement towards him brought him out of his reverie and Arthur noticed the stiffening of Leon's back. "What's wrong?" he whispered. When no reply was forthcoming, he jabbed the man positioned in front of him. "What's happening?"

"Ouch," protested Leon. "You told me not to talk."

"I meant frivolously. Of course, you're to tell me if anything important happens." Arthur rolled his eyes in despair. He expected such dunder-headedness from Merlin _not_ from his most trusted and capable knight. He, himself, would never be unclear in his actions!

"Well, um, there may some difficulties arriving. There are…" Leon cut himself short as two young noblewomen approached him, smiles fixed on their red-painted lips. Being part of the royal inner circle of advisors and friends as well as a popular competitor in the tourneys, Sir Leon was not unknown in his own right.

* * *

Arthur Pendragon thanked his lucky stars that castles required such big pillars to hold up the ceilings. There was enough girth to the structure that he could manoeuvre further round without exposing his (hidden) presence. He sighed quietly, settled on his haunches, his back against the stone and amused himself by listening to the women trying to endear themselves to the tall, good-looking knight.

* * *

From across the hall, Merlin and Gwen stood with the other servants in attendance to the revellers at large. Gwen was happy to have this time with Merlin. She loved that he was quiet and unassuming but those same qualities also exasperated her. She had deliberately pinned her hair up slightly higher and more neatly with fresh little flowers and she had pressed her dress with even more care than usual. A little dab of lemon oil behind her ears helped to keep her scent fresh amongst the throng of bodies. However, her efforts seemed to be of no avail as Merlin appeared oblivious to those little extra touches she had made.

Merlin, on the other hand, was most certainly aware of what Gwen had done for his benefit and he had to say that despite his platonic feelings for her, he was still male and appreciated an attractive woman. He was all too aware at times like these that Gwen was _not_ his sister and she was making clear that she did not view him as a brother. Merlin felt it very warm all of a sudden and he pulled at his scarf to loosen it a bit from his throat.

"Where's Arthur? I haven't seen him for a while." He scanned the hall for his master as well as to steer Gwen's mind to whom someone thought she should very much be interested in.

Gwen suppressed a sigh. The prince was decent enough as royalty went, she supposed, but it still didn't negate the fact he was an arrogant pig most of the time. She thought Merlin would have been pleased to be away from his beck and call for the time being. Her musings were cut short by a gesture from one of the visiting lords to bring the wine jug to him.

With Gwen now away, Merlin took the opportunity to discreetly cast a scrying spell for his missing friend. He looked down into the pitcher of water that he carried and examined the image that appeared on the liquid surface. After a moment or two, Merlin had to stifle a chuckle as he realised what the scene was showing. He examined the surrounding picture to figure out where Arthur's precise location was and smiled in satisfaction as the image moved to show Sir Leon. The sorcerer quickly cleared the spell and made his way purposefully to the subject of his scrying.

Gaius noted Merlin's movement and excused himself from the small group he had been chatting with. "Merlin?" he asked as he fell in step beside him.

"Gaius," Merlin smiled, the smile reaching his eyes, "I'm just going to see how Arthur is. He's been hiding behind that column and Sir Leon for half the night."

Gwen looked across to see Merlin and Gaius moving away to a corner where Sir Leon was located. With her now free from any requirements by guests, she made to follow her crush.

* * *

Sir Leon took a deep breath of relief as Merlin's appearance rescued him from his station at the pillar and also allowed him to escape from the insipid and uninteresting women who had cornered him. He looked around, hoping to reacquaint himself with Morgana.

"Arthur, what are you doing here?"

"Help me up Merlin, I think I've got cramp in both legs." Arthur groaned as his servant hauled him to his feet. Being crouched in one position for so long had let his muscles seize up and cause pins-and-needles to develop. "Ah, that's better," he said shaking his legs as he tried to encourage the circulation back into his limbs.

"Everyone's been asking for you, I can't believe you've been hiding back here all this time."

"I was not hiding. I was, um, enjoying a quiet moment of contemplation."

A dark eyebrow rose in doubt. "Hmmm, and that's why Sir Leon happened to be directly in front of you, was it?"

Gaius was too polite to laugh out loud but he couldn't prevent the smile that appeared.

Before Arthur could answer, a soft voice interrupted them.

"Is everything alright?"

* * *

Gwen had watched with amused confusion as Prince Arthur suddenly appeared from behind Sir Leon and then the wide stone column. She found it hard to believe that Arthur would willingly hide from attention but that was what seemed to be the case. Gwen guessed that wonders would never cease.

The three men turned as one to the voice.

"Thanks, Gwen, it's fine. Just seeing that Prince Arthur and Sir Leon had everything they needed."

"Oh." Gwen felt a bit awkward – as if she had interrupted something but not entirely sure what.

"Actually, Merlin, I'm not feeling quite right. I think I might need to retire early." Arthur genuinely didn't want to stay on despite there not being anything wrong with his health. He simply couldn't be bothered with entertaining empty-headed butterflies who had nothing to say for themselves.

Gwen regarded Arthur with concern. "You are unwell, my lord?"

"A headache is all but I just don't want it to get worse."

Merlin couldn't resist a sly dig at his master. "I'm sure there would be more than one lady here who would be happy to kiss it better for you."

Without thinking, Gaius interjected with, "That's something you would recall, Merlin." His gaze darted to Gwen for a second who felt a warm flush in her cheeks and then looked away embarrassed.

Merlin said nothing but had a faintly mortified expression on his face.

Realising his mistake, Gaius could only say a soft, "Ooops."

Arthur, meanwhile, saw and noted the looks and exclamations from the small group around him and quickly put two and two together. All of a sudden, he really did feel the need to lie down as he became queasy at the thought of Gwen kissing Merlin.

The stare he gave his servant told Merlin that Arthur would surely have questions for him.

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_**Apologies for the long delay. Hope that u liked this chapter. Reviews much appreciated for this fic as need to know whether it's worth continuing due to writing probs with ideas.**_

_**x**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Note: **ok, forget anything I said in chapter 1 about Lancelot not existing, his existence just wasn't known about then. (sorry, ideas have changed and I need to amend the story premise to make it fit!)

Many shiny and magical thanks for the continued reviews x

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_In an age long past, a slender woman sits at a heavy oak desk, ornately carved with dragons, selkies and centaurs. A pen is in her hand, poised just above the crisp and new parchment as she deliberates over the words she is going to commit in writing. It always bothered her somewhat when prophecies told of destruction and sadness and this one was no different. If and when it will take place, she does not know. She has walked the earth for countless lifetimes and has seen the birth and death of great dynasties. It still surprises her to see the same stories re-enacted and re-told by successive generations. Will people never learn?_

_She pours herself a goblet of gold-coloured wine and eases out of the chair to step onto a large balcony and stare up at a moonlit sky. Sipping the liquid, she closes her eyes as the fire of the wine warms her throat and down to her belly._

* * *

_The grounds of her keep stretched out before her. Such defences were necessary for one such as her. Attacks were not regular but neither were they unheard of._

_The air stirred as a wing-flap beat through the night sky. Amber eyes opened to greet the arrival._

"_How fared your travels?" Her voice was soft yet held a rich timbre that belied her appearance. Anyone who saw her would be hard pressed to guess her age. By no means 'old' her skin was smooth and unlined, midnight-hair untouched by any grey. However, her youth was not that of a girl untouched by time and the cares of life. She was as timeless as the dragon who now stood on her lawn, his head at the same height as the high balcony on which she greeted him._

"_Uneventful. There is peace – for now." The dragon snorted derisively. "The dragonlords spend much time twiddling their thumbs, polishing swords or working as healers whilst asking dragonkind to fetch and carry 'erbs and potions like common message-boys."_

"_Peace, my friend, is a rare commodity as you well know. Let it be enjoyed for it never lasts as long as people might think." She smiled indulgently at the dragon's discontent. With a subtle wave of her hand and a murmur of her lips, a large trough containing the same golden liquid as she was drinking appeared before the dragon._

_The dragon eyed the newly appeared item for a second before spluttering indignantly. "A trough?? Do you take me for some common farm animal?!"_

"_Oh, hush. It is all I have which is big enough to suit you and it fits the purpose, does it not?" _

_The dragon puffed a little before shrugging his wings in resignation and dipping his graceful neck to drink as the woman chuckled as she tried to imagine anyone mistaking such a fantastic creature for, say, a cow!_

_There was companionable silence as she waited for him to take a drink. When he lifted his head again, she asked, "What of the new king?" It was always a worry when there was a new ruler in the lands as one never knew if they would serve the cause of peace or be a megalomaniac tyrant hell-bent on war and conquering others._

"_Like any other, I suppose, but this one seems more patient and less arrogant. I believe he intends to create a new kingdom named Camelot."_

_Her demeanour betrayed nothing as she asked, "Do you think he will succeed?"_

"_Who knows. As with most humans, their plans are usually greater than their actual achievements. Only time will tell if this one will fulfil his destiny." There was a pause as they studied each other closely. Finally, she broke the silence._

"_Another prophecy is taking form."_

"_Hmm," mused the dragon. "And will it be a great change?"_

"_For the world at large? No. But for that kingdom, it will be earth-shattering." For a second, there was a shadow of regret on her face which the dragon noted._

"_Sorrow, Alesta? You and I and the comparative few of our ilk – we are different. The paths we walk are far removed from ordinary mortals. If we mourned every loss we ever saw and are yet to see, we would drown in our own tears." The dragon's words were softly spoken. "We record the events, we foresee what may come. Most of all, we remember."_

"_I know, you are right. But sometimes, do you not wish…" began the seeress._

"_Yes," he cut in sternly, "but they are only wishes" His tone softened. "We are who we are and that cannot change."_

_She smiled apologetically at him. "I grow melancholic and sentimental in my old age."_

"_Nonsense, you are a whelp compared to me. I think the melancholy is more down to that molten fire you call wine than your age."_

_The woman laughed at that._

"_Now, back to more pressing matters." The dragon looked enquiringly at the tall, elegant woman. "You wouldn't happen to have a spare pig or three, would you? Flying all day non-stop always builds up an appetite."_

"_Of course, my friend, I am forgetting my manners. I shall have them brought to you immediately." She arched a fine eyebrow. "I presume you will not require us to cook them for you."_

_The dragon heard the light mischief behind the words and sighed with a puff of smoke. "How droll, my Lady. I shall await them at the usual spot?"_

"_As ever and please feel free to make use of any sleeping place you see fit. Thank you for your news, Kilgarrah."_

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_She turns to re-enter her chambers, a thoughtful frown the only line on her smooth face. She returns to her seat at her desk and picks up the pen again. _So, _she thinks_, the prophecy is about to begin. _She puts pen to parchment and continues the neat, flowing script across the page. When the prophecy is completely revealed to her, she will bind them into a single volume.

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**Sorry for the short chapter, just a little bridge to tie in the original idea a bit.**

**x**


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur and Merlin went about their evening routine in silence tinged with tension. As the sorcerer methodically performed his duties, the prince shot him several penetrating looks which were studiously ignored. Gaius's words had been circling around his mind and Arthur could not hold his tongue anymore.

"So when did you and Guinevere kiss?" Arthur didn't see the point in tip-toeing around the issue. He noted, with satisfaction, the loud crack that sounded as Merlin hit his head on the underside of the table he had had to crawl beneath to retrieve Arthur's haphazardly thrown boots.

"Pardon?" Merlin's head appeared with a startled look on his face.

"When. Did. You. And. Guinevere. Kiss. ?" the prince slowly and carefully enunciated while fixing his servant with a steady stare.

"I…uh…what makes you think we kissed?" he lowered his head back to his work as a red flush crept up the back of his neck and over his high cheekbones.

"Well, let me see… perhaps it's the same blush you have now as you had when Gaius said you would recall what it was like to have something kissed better. Or it could be the way you looked like you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you. It might also be how Guinevere also looked a bit redder than usual at the same time as you. Quite a coincidence wouldn't you say?"

"Um… yes?" was Merlin's hesitant reply. Arthur's revelation had been a shock to the system and the sorcerer was unsure whether admitting the (innocent) kiss would be more detrimental than denying it when the prince clearly knew the truth already. After a few seconds of consideration, Merlin felt it best to try and explain the circumstances of the kiss.

* * *

Arthur's arms were folded in front of his chest, a steely glint in his sapphire eyes. He had mixed feelings about finding out about the kiss. Part of him was glad of the knowledge as it helped him to realise that the natural order of things was that servants belonged together and princes belonged with princesses. So why did his heart ache and his gut feel as if someone had punched him full-force?

In the privacy of his own head, he admitted that he most definitely was jealous of his servant. Arthur could see that Merlin was going to say more, knew him well enough to know that the darker man would try to explain himself. Camelot's heir just wasn't sure that he wanted to hear all of the gory details.

"It wasn't how you think," began Merlin. It was difficult to recall properly, it seemed like an age ago and he had barely been conscious – only awakening from the poisoned sleep when Gwen had already pressed her lips to his. As she had said back then, she had only done it because she thought he was dead!

As Merlin spoke, Arthur found it hard to take in what was being said after hearing that it was Gwen who had initiated the kiss! There was a roaring in his ears as he felt the blood rush to his head and he only just registered the bit about Merlin not being awake.

"So, let me get this right, Gwen kissed you because she thought you were dead and Gaius was there but then the antidote he gave you from that blasted flower I nearly died collecting actually worked and that's when you weren't dead after all."

"Yup," confirmed Merlin with a grin, glad that Arthur had made sense of the story in one go.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Arthur rationally knew that his servant would not make up such a story, especially one so clichéd but it still strangely hurt to know that Merlin had done (albeit unconsciously) what he himself had only dreamt about.

"It's true," protested Merlin. "Arthur, I promise you I would never do anything with Gwen. Especially not now!" he paused and looked speculatively at the blond man who squinted suspiciously back at him.

"Whatever it is, Merlin, the answer is no."

"Arthur, given what we know – that is, you like Gwen and someone somewhere thinks or thought you were meant to be together. It's time for a new quest… to woo Gwen."

Arthur's eyes widened in shock. "Are you mad? I can't go around wooing a servant, my father would have apoplexy! Apart from anything else, are you forgetting what the consequences are supposed to be if Guinevere and I do get together?"

The sorcerer hesitated as he tried to recall the details of the prophecy. "Hmm, that's only true if this other knight makes an appearance. Don't you want to get to know Gwen better?" This last remark was designed to prod the prince into action.

Arthur didn't reply. There was a lot he had to consider but he was certain he wanted to spend more time with Morgana's maid.

* * *

Merlin had gone into the forest to collect mushrooms when the attack from the griffin came. It was ferocious in its assault and it seemed to the servant that his fate was sealed when a roar sounded from nowhere and a man charged the griffin, sword raised in fearlessness as he chased off the magical creature.

As both men caught their breath, Merlin studied his rescuer. He was dark haired and dark eyed and his skin had an olive complexion. Young and handsome, the stranger was the stuff of young maidens' dreams.

"Thank you for saving me. I'm Merlin," introduced Arthur's servant.

"You're welcome. Lancelot," was the return greeting.


	8. Chapter 8

**thanks for continued reviews, they're much appreciated :D xx

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"The court is all a-babble about you and a certain knight," smiled Gwen to Morgana as she helped to pin up her mistress's long dark tresses.

Morgana's grey eyes met the brown ones of her maid in the mirror. "Oh, and what is it they babble?" she asked coolly.

"That you're secretly betrothed and you're not going to be Arthur's bride and future Queen of Camelot." Gwen didn't miss a beat as she continued her task of threading little gems through Morgana's hair.

Morgana's expression hardened slightly. "People have too much time on their hands. I never promised to be married to Arthur – it's all just conjecture by others. As for Sir Leon, whether or not we are betrothed is none of anyone's business!" She was indignant at the gossip. With a self-conscious look at Gwen, she added, "Just so you know, we aren't."

With a straight face and soft tone, Gwen replied, "I wasn't going to ask and I never mentioned Sir Leon."

Realising that she had overreacted towards her maid and friend, Morgana lowered her gaze. "Sorry Gwen. I just hate being talked about by people who don't even know me."

Lately, Morgana's nightmares had occasionally been replaced with amorous dreams of Sir Leon but the effects of such sweet dreams were no less terrifying. Several times already, she had woken up in the morning to find her dressing table mirror shattered, scattering shards of glass everywhere although there were never any potentially lethal shards near her. More worryingly, Leon himself reported strange happenings where he found his belongings strewn across his room as if someone had hurled them randomly about. Most distressing of all, he had woken to the sight of his sword impaled on the pillow inches from his head with no explanation. There was nothing to indicate an intruder despite an exhaustive hunt and so that left Uther Pendragon's worst nightmare – the unleashing of magic within his kingdom!

Morgana had no doubt that the strange happenings stemmed from her influence albeit without her control so she played along with the idea that there was a rogue magician somewhere and that she was equally frightened of them even as her anger and sense of hatred towards Uther and his irrational persecution of all things magical began to grow with each passing day.

* * *

Alarm bells went off in Merlin's head when he heard the name of his rescuer. He surely owed his life to this Lancelot but if he were to introduce him to Arthur, or importantly Gwen, the repercussions would be terrible.

Lancelot told Merlin of his tale of tragedy, his search for a higher cause and his desire to be a bona fide knight.

As he listened to the would-be knight, Merlin felt his heart tug with sympathy. He understood as well as anybody the wish to fulfil one's own true potential without the fear of unjust and possibly lethal discrimination. Merlin was also aware that he was in an ideal position to try and help a deserving commoner find a way into the ranks of nobility. He found Lancelot to be likeable and it was not in his nature to deny someone his assistance.

Merlin was in a quandary.

* * *

Arthur tapped his finger against his chin thoughtfully as he sat on his horse, contemplating the view before him. He was supposed to be surveying the kingdom to ascertain the state of the land and therefore the estimated yield of crops come harvest time. However, his brain kept going back to Merlin's suggestion that he should try to woo Guinevere and Arthur presumed that his servant did not mean giving her a cheer by shouting, "Woo!"

She would likely think him soft in the head and more than a little patronising considering she spent her days trailing back and forth attending not only to chores for Morgana but also to general castle duties.

"My lord?" an enquiring voice interrupted his thoughts and Arthur looked across at Sir Percival.

"Hmm? What is it?" The prince dragged his mind back to the task in hand and adopted a serious tone.

"My lord, should we ride down into the valley or continue along this ridge?"

Arthur paused for a moment as he weighed up the options. There was still much of the kingdom to visit and rolling hills and flat fields stretched as far as the eye could see. The survey was going to take more days than he initially thought if he stopped at absolutely every farm in the land and the sun had dipped low as afternoon began its slow descent into evening.

"We'll keep going, there does not appear to be any problems here and there are many miles to cover."

"Sire." Sir Percival nodded his assent and together with the small company of knights, he rode on just behind Camelot's prince who had regained a faraway look in his eyes as they continued through some beautiful landscape.

Arthur's eyes sparkled a bright blue as inspiration hit him. That was it, he would take Guinevere on a picnic and what better setting to charm her in than Camelot itself! The only snag was thinking of a premise on which he could ask her to accompany him on such an outing without other guests. His brow furrowed as he racked his brains for a solution.

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**I have a solution lined up! It's going in the next chapter :D**

**x**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: nobody will let me own anything or anyone to do with 'Merlin'. Boo :(

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Gwen nervously smoothed the front of her dress and patted her hair in place before knocking on the door. She had been sent word that she had been summoned by Prince Arthur and that she was to see him in the council chamber.

When the call of "Enter" sounded from inside the room, the guards outside leaned forward to open the door to allow her entry. The maid was a little surprised to see both Arthur and Morgana seated at the large dark table and she felt worried as she began to wonder what she had done wrong to warrant the presence of her mistress and the Crown Prince of Camelot.

Gwen approached the table then stopped a respectful couple of paces away from it, her gaze flickering uncertainly between the two nobles. Morgana gave her an encouraging look as Arthur bade her to also take a seat with them.

The blond man studied her, his face unreadable, before speaking, "Gwen, we asked you to come and see us because we wanted to ask you to, um…" Arthur hesitated, unsure of how to phrase his words. He had never before been tongue-tied or stuck for words when addressing a servant.

"Gwen, we wanted to ask a favour." Morgana smoothly stepped in. "Arthur has asked if he might borrow your services tomorrow. He has need to go to visit one of the homesteads and Merlin is unable to accompany him as he is unwell."

Concern was etched on the maid's face. "Is he alright? I can fetch him some healing herbs and make him a draught."

Arthur was slightly disgruntled to see how Gwen's attention was immediately diverted to Merlin's well-being. "It's nothing serious, just a cold I imagine. Gaius is tending to him, he should be better in no time."

Gwen thought for a moment then looked confusedly at her two superiors. "Surely, my lord, you would do better to have one of your knights to accompany you?"

Arthur had been anticipating this question – Morgana herself had also posed the same query when he had first approached her to ask to borrow Guinevere and he got around the issue with the same explanation.

"Ah, yes, normally that would be the case but you see, the homesteader I am going to visit is a lady of more advanced years and I fear that she would find the presence of two armoured men unsettling whilst a gentler presence would likely put her more at ease.

Gwen's expression cleared as the explanation made sense to her. "Of course, I understand. It would be an honour, my lord." She turned to her mistress. "My lady, I shall make sure everything is organised for you before I go and I will leave a message for the other girls for…"

"Gwen," interrupted Morgana, "I'll be absolutely fine. I'm not completely incapable." She smiled at her maid.

"Oh, no, I didn't think that for a second, I just want to make sure everything is alright for you." The words rushed from Gwen.

"Everything will be," assured Morgana. "Just enjoy the change of scene."

Arthur had said little throughout this exchange, content to let his father's ward do the talking. He allowed himself a small smile when it was confirmed that he would have Guinevere's company for an entire day!

* * *

The next morning was bright and clear, the early summer sun already illuminating all the land. Arthur Pendragon was already at the stables saddling the horses and making certain that he had everything he needed to put his plan into action. He had had the kitchen prepare a picnic which he carefully arranged into a saddlebag and each horse carried a rolled-up blanket which he could use when he came to his chosen spot.

As he led the horses out into the courtyard, Arthur saw that Gwen had arrived and was waiting patiently for him to arrive. She dipped a curtsey and he noticed that she had changed her usual yellow dress for a more travel-worn russet gown. The material looked slightly coarser than the fabric she usually wore but the plainer gown looked right on the maid, its simplicity made it appear almost regal because of Gwen's quietly dignified pose.

"Good morning, Guinevere," smiled Arthur in greeting.

"Good morning, my lord." Gwen felt shy and awkward. She had never been a companion to a man, let alone to a prince. It just wasn't done for a female servant to attend to a man by herself – that was how rumours got started! Any time that she had travelled in the company of men, she had been tending to Lady Morgana's needs or that of another noblewoman.

Arthur nodded reassuringly at the maid. "Ready to go? Don't worry, the journey isn't _very_ far, we should be there by mid-day."

They mounted up and Arthur led the way to the city gates, nudging his horse to a canter as they left the castle. Taken by surprise at the unannounced increase in speed and the sight of Arthur quickly distancing her, Gwen tapped her heels to her steed's flanks and galloped after him.

The sun was high by the time the reached a small farmhouse where Gwen could see little sign of crops growing or animals being raised, save for a few chickens scratching around the front yard.

* * *

They dismounted, Arthur leading the way to the door which he knocked lightly upon. After several moments, the weather-beaten door creaked open to reveal a wizened little woman peering up at the two arrivals through eyes which were crinkled with laughter lines.

Gwen was taken aback to see the prince's posture change to become deferential as he addressed the aged woman.

"Mistress Eirlys?" Arthur enquired.

There was no response from the old woman at first then the door swung open fully and stick-like arms reached up to grasp the prince's shoulders in a surprisingly strong grip and pull him down in a close hug.

"Arthur, you young scamp! You haven't been to see your gran-gran in ages!" The old woman berated him even as she rained gummy kisses on his head.

Of all possible scenarios, the last thing Gwen expected to see was this! She couldn't stop her eyebrows arching in surprise, they lifted so high that they almost met her hairline. _Gran-gran???_

Mistress Eirlys, or Gran-gran, eventually released Arthur and turned her attention to Gwen who she scrutinised with twinkly green eyes. "And who is this pretty young lady?" she waggled her eyebrows, somehow managing to be inquisitive and suggestive at the same time.

"I'm Guinevere, most people call me Gwen. I'm Lady Morgana's maid, pleased to meet you." Gwen gathered herself sufficiently to introduce herself and she reached out to shake hands.

"Delighted, delighted," murmured Gran-gran who forwent formality and also hugged the young woman. Gwen was surprised by the strength of a body that outwardly looked very frail.

"Come in, my dears, I have some elderflower wine just ready yesterday. You can help me sample it." She shuffled inside leaving her two visitors to follow her. Gwen shot Arthur a question-filled look which he answered with a shrug and a grin.

* * *

They were now on their second cup of the potent but innocuous tasting elderflower wine and Eirlys was regaling Gwen with tales of Arthur as a boy.

"I first met Arthur when he was just a chubby baby. His nursemaid was my niece, you see, and she would bring him to visit me. He was a curious little thing, as soon as he could toddle there was no stopping him – I would find him in the chicken shed sitting amongst the hens or running around after the ducks." There was a chuckle as she recalled, "I think he even once thought he was a sheep. He loved seeing the lambs and the ewes were very tolerant of a little boy's presence. For a while, Arthur would communicate only in 'baa's'"

Gwen couldn't help but laugh along at the image whilst Arthur could only stare at the two women helplessly, his face beetroot with embarrassment.

Eirlys leaned towards Gwen conspiratorially and spoke in a stage-whisper. "Now, just you remind him of that when he gets too big for his royal boots."

"Gran-gran!" protested Arthur.

"Arthur, I love you like you're my own but don't think I don't know how you can be." She shrugged. "I'm too old to care about being put in the stocks like you do with that young Merlin."

Arthur's mouth opened and closed soundlessly as his Gran-gran winked knowingly at him. "I might not get around as much as I used to but I still keep my ear to the ground."

The prince folded his arms defensively and huffed to Gwen. "See this is what I get for being nice and going to visit people."

"Well, I suppose you should have visited more often." Gwen surprised herself with her reply. Gran-gran's mischievousness was catching! The old woman grinned toothlessly.

"Oh, my dear boy, I knew she was perfect for you as soon as I saw her."

Arthur's face paled and Gwen looked away embarrassedly. "Oh, no," she shook her head, "it's nothing like that. I'm only here because Merlin is ill and unable to join Arthur."

"Really? I'm sorry for the mistake, dearie." Gran-gran leaned back in her chair and eyed Arthur speculatively.

* * *

Gwen and Arthur finally left after a very enjoyable afternoon with the prince's surrogate grandmother with promises to visit more often or else Arthur would send a carriage to collect her and bring her to the castle city. What Gwen did not see when Eirlys and Arthur hugged goodbye was the old woman whisper in his ear and the prince blush again.

"She's amazing!" enthused Gwen. "I can't believe I've never met her before."

"Yep, she's very special. She's Gran-gran." Arthur smiled proudly. He paused as he considered his companion. "Let's go this way, we can stop for something to eat as well." Arthur pointed left of the direction of Camelot castle.

After an hour or so, they came to a cornflower-topped field and Arthur declared it a perfect place to stop and Gwen couldn't disagree. They were at the top of a hill and the view meant they could see all around them at the land and kingdom that was Camelot. It took Gwen's breath away and Arthur was touched by the look of wonder and awe on her face.

He left Gwen admiring the landscape while he went to tend the horses and she was still distracted as he quickly laid out the blankets and set out the food he had taken with him.

"Gwen, come and eat," he called.

Her brown eyes widened when she saw the spread laid out. Arthur had not stinted on the supplies and before them was bread, cheese, meat and fruit. There were also cakes and wine.

"Oh, Arthur, my lord. This is too much." Gwen couldn't see how she could accept such a feast.

"Nonsense, Guinevere, it's the least I could do for you coming with me." He added softly, "I wanted to do this."

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_**did u like it? please review**_

**_x_**


	10. Chapter 10

**Lots of lovely thanks to everyone for the continued reviews :D xx

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As Gran-gran closed the door after watching Arthur and Gwen leave her ramshackle home, the old woman sighed and placed a wrinkled hand on her back to rub the ache that had settled there.

"You should let me do something about that for you," a rich voice spoke from behind her.

"That's a very rude habit you have there, you really should announce yourself before visiting" grumbled Gran-gran good-naturedly as she turned to face the speaker.

The midnight hair now showed a lock of white and there were suggestions of laughter lines on the previously smooth face but the tall, elegant posture remained the same as did the amber eyes.

"I know, but I knew you had some of that elderflower wine and I couldn't wait." There was a hint of laughter in her words and the two women regarded each other fondly as they embraced before seating themselves on a comfortably cushioned long-seat that had magically appeared.

"Alesta, you are always welcome to my elderflower wine."

"Thank you, Eirlys. I have also brought you a flagon of honey wine and some of those sickly sugar chestnuts you love so much."

Twinkly green eyes lit up. "Aha, I knew that having an older sister would come in handy! How are you?"

"Well enough though I confess the years are catching up on me."

Eirlys chuckled. "I think you are doing pretty well for a woman whose bones should be dust by now. Me too, come to think of it!"

Alesta studied her sister, a searching look. "Do you regret it?" She had always wondered, even after all these years.

The reply was measured and thoughtful. "Once upon a time I did, yes. But not now, not for an awfully long time. I made my choice when I met Iorwerth and although my bones continually ache like billy-o and my food tends to be the consistency of mush unless I plan to take a few hours for each meal, I would not change it. And you?"

The seeress's reply was equally considered. "No, my powers are a gift and have served me and many others well throughout time. It is as much a part of me as my arms or my head."

Alesta remembered the day nearly seventy years ago when her younger sister, who had lived alongside her for eons, had told her that she had decided to revoke her powers of prolonged life and that she required her help to do it. Eirlys had explained that she wanted to share life (youth and old age) with the man who she had chosen as her husband. It had pained the elder sister to know that she would see her sister pass a long time before she, herself, would depart from the world but Alesta understood Eirlys's choice and would never have considered denying her request.

* * *

Eirlys clapped her hands in glee when Alesta unplugged the cork and poured out a glass of the honey wine which a dragon had once called molten fire. A contented smile curved her lips as bright warmth spread through her with the first sip. "You still never gave me the recipe for this wine," she said accusingly.

"No and I don't intend to either. You might recall the centaur incident? It was lucky for us that we managed to appease him with flattery and promises of a long and happy future for him!" Alesta threw her sister a reproachful look.

Eirlys giggled at the memory. They had been young (truly young) when the younger girl had persuaded her sibling that it would be a good idea if they 'acquired' several flagons of their father's secret recipe honey wine. While intoxicated, they had insistently and constantly shouted "Giddy-up neddy!" to a visiting centaur prince. Suffice to say, the centaur had quickly lost his sense of humour after the thirtieth time of hearing it and it had taken much placating and apologising on their parents' part to smooth his ruffled ego. As a result, their father had deemed Alesta to be the marginally more level-headed of his children and passed the recipe to her.

A brief silence passed until Eirlys spoke. "I met Guinevere. She was here with Arthur today."

Alesta was quiet, waiting for the other woman to say more.

"Very nice girl. He will do well to hang onto her." Eirlys tilted her head, questioningly. "Will he hang onto her?"

"I don't know. The prophecy has been written and I have heard that Lancelot has arrived in the kingdom. What Merlin chooses to do next will dictate future events."

"Then I hope he chooses well. I would not like to lose Arthur, not at all."

* * *

As they approached the gates to Camelot's castle city, dusk was settling over the land and it gave the sky a warm glow, optimistic with the promise of a new sun the following day.

Gwen was feeling light-headed from the wine and happy. She had had a wonderful day and seen a side of Prince Arthur that she never thought could exist. Not only had he shown himself to be a loving 'grandson' but also an attentive and considerate companion. The picnic had been a joy – easygoing and Arthur was witty and interesting. He had managed to dispel many notions she held of him as a selfish and arrogant muscle-bound meathead, instead showing himself to be quite the opposite, though it wasn't to say he didn't still have his moments. At one point, a cute little rabbit had hopped into view and before she could remark on it's cuteness, he suggested that he might hunt it for supper.

Stablehands ran out to meet them as they completed their journey and dismounted. Behind them approached a familiar slender figure.

"Sire, Gwen, how was your journey? It's nice to have you back." Merlin grinned happily at them.

Gwen stepped across to enfold Merlin in a hug. "Are you feeling better? Do you need anything? I can help if you're still unwell."

Arthur frowned in consternation at his servant who shrugged helplessly.

"I'm much better now, thanks Gwen. Did you cope alright with Arthur?" He gently disengaged from her arms.

"Yes, he was fine, very good company." She smiled shyly across at the blond man who had puffed out his chest a little at her comment.

"Really?" Merlin looked unconvinced but said nothing more. He looked across at Arthur. "I bumped into someone the other day, thought you might like to know. His name's Lancelot."


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **as ever I own nothing

**Note: **apologies for the long delay in update – between writer's block and general life getting in the way, I'm afraid that I have been very lax in my fic-ing! Anyway, for those of you who are still hanging in there with this particular story, thank you very much xxx

* * *

Merlin sighed as he finally managed to kick his boots off his aching feet after another long day as personal servant to the Crown Prince of Camelot. He flopped down on his bed and closed his eyes, trying to fall into deep and blissful sleep but his mind prevented him from doing so.

He had helped Lancelot to find lodging within the city but other than that had attempted to keep him at arms' length. Unfortunately, the would-be knight had overheard someone mention that Merlin was part of the royal court and was close to Prince Arthur and since then, had been gently pressing the young sorcerer to find a way to let him plead his cause to the prince.

Mulling over the problem, Merlin reasoned that it wasn't an issue if Lancelot met Arthur - it was Lancelot meeting _Gwen _that was the trouble. As such, he could assist Lancelot whilst still averting disaster – as long as he could keep Gwen out of the way!

* * *

"No, Merlin," insisted the prince, "it's madness. I would be committing suicide!"

Merlin had anticipated that his friend and master would be far from receptive to his idea and he had to rack his brains to convince the blond man.

"Just listen, you are always looking for suitable knights for Camelot and Lancelot is a perfect candidate – he has all the qualities required, apart from the noble birth bit," argued Merlin.

"Oh yes, all the qualities. Have you forgotten the part about him causing my death and the destruction of the kingdom? Just the qualities I look for in all my knights!" retorted Arthur sarcastically.

"Well, maybe not that bit," conceded Merlin, "but you should meet him. All we need is to find Gwen something to do which will take her out of the castle for a while."

"And if I were to meet him and decide that he is suitable? What then? We can't keep Gwen out of Camelot indefinitely!"

"It might not come to that. Please, Arthur, give him a chance."

The two young men locked blue-eyed stares as they pondered a decision that would potentially have far-reaching and devastating effects.

Several days later, Merlin arrived at one of the practice-fields to find a jubilant Lancelot leaving a pleased yet slightly troubled-looking Arthur. The handsome newcomer clapped Merlin heartily on the shoulder as he practically skipped past. "Thank you! Let me buy you an ale this evening."

The sorcerer grinned at Arthur. "All went well, then?"

"I think so. You're right, he would be an ideal knight but the laws state that a knight must be of noble birth and there is no way that my father would allow it to be otherwise."

"Can you not talk him round? Surely you would be able to do something?"

Arthur scoffed, "Are we talking about the same man here?"

Merlin said nothing, knowing that the prince was correct about his father's character. His brow knitted as he thought then smoothed as he brightened. "I'll fix it," he declared. He set off in the direction of the castle and its library of records.

The prince eyed the departing figure suspiciously before shrugging resignedly. "Whatever it is, I don't want to know." As he picked up his sword to continue training his current crop of fledging knights, Arthur couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he had made a mistake in allowing Lancelot to gain a foot-hold in Camelot.

* * *

Gwen hummed softly to herself as she made her way back to the castle city. Her errand from Merlin to collect a special mixture of herbs and seeds for Gaius from a particular merchant located outside the city had been cut short when she had finally arrived at his modest shop and found it to be closed and a passer-by informed her that the merchant had been called away on an urgent request and it was unknown when he might return.

She had sighed deeply in consternation as it had been a good hour's journey on foot to the merchant but there was little she could do. The maid squinted up at the clear blue sky and warm shining sun. She was grateful for small mercies that at least the weather was good for her return walk. Stopping by a small brook, Gwen sat on the low bank, pulled off her low boots and smiled in pleasure as she dipped hot feet into the cool, clear water. She could see Camelot's castle looming near - she could be no more than a half hour or so from home and her friends. The young woman had made good time and found she had a free moment or two to enjoy.

The last week had been very confusing for her in terms of her feelings towards men. Gwen could not deny that she still had feelings of fancy towards Prince Arthur's servant and that she would always have a soft spot for Merlin but her time spent with the prince himself troubled her greatly. She had begun to have thoughts of Arthur which were not appropriate for one of her station in life. His caring side had taken her completely by surprise and had opened her eyes to the man which he could and would be. Sapphire blue eyes and blond hair had started entering her dreams and she had woken one night in quite a tizz after dreaming of a pale, muscled body intimately entwined with her own soft caramel form.

Gwen shook her head as she splashed her feet. It was a foolish notion to have and the quicker she snapped out of it the better. If people could read her thoughts now, she would be mortified and laughed out of the kingdom for having such flights of fancy. But, oh, what a fancy! She giggled to herself as remembered her vivid dream. Gwen stood up, her boots in her hands, and carried on her walk letting her feet dry on the way.

She replaced her footwear as she approached the city gates and as she passed through them, a sense of home-coming settled over the maid. As much as she embraced adventure and travel, she could never see herself permanently away from Camelot and she could not bear to imagine there never being a Camelot.

* * *

Picking her way through the busy and sometimes narrow streets, Gwen's head was bent as she concentrated on her footing when she felt a bump against her shoulder and heard a sincere, "Sorry."

She looked up and found her eyes caught by doe-like brown ones in a handsome, olive-toned faced framed by longish dark brown hair. White teeth shone in an apologetic smile which she returned with a shy one of her own. The look they shared last a moment longer than it should have before Gwen turned away, a slight flush on her cheeks and carried on her way.

Lancelot continued to stare after her for a second or two more before he, too, melted into the crowd.

* * *

On a far-way isle, ruby red lips curved in a speculative, knowing smile. Sparkling blue eyes flashed with cold delight as they watched the chance meeting between Gwen and Lancelot. A slim pale hand waved briefly over the water in the stone font and the image cleared to show only the reflection a witch nearly as old as magic itself and who had sworn revenge on Uther Pendragon.

* * *

In a ramshackle farmhouse, amber eyes flared open at the sense of old magic being woken.

"Lys," a slender hand gently shook the shoulder of an elderly woman who stirred at the light touch.

"Les? What's wrong?" The sisters reverted to their childhood names for each other.

Concern was etched on the elder sister's face. "It begins. She has seen and tries to control what will come to pass."

Alesta and Eirlys looked grimly at each other before speaking at the same time. "Nimueh." Though the younger sister had relinquished her own powers, she still shared an almost psychic bond with the seeress.

"She knows what is to come?" asked Eirlys.

"She knows _this version_ of what is to come. And she will try to make it so as she had done with other events in the past."

"Les, she must be stopped. If what you saw will happen, then so be it, but _not_ by her hand!"

* * *

Morgana was sitting in the gardens with her eyes closed, just enjoying a rare moment of peace and sunshine without being disturbed when she felt a shadow cross her face. She opened her eyes to see a young woman standing before her garbed in a long red cloak despite the temperate weather with long brown hair braided close to her scalp before being left to flow loosely around her shoulders.

"Can I help you?" enquired the King's ward warily.

The woman's voice was soft, gentle. "It concerns the happiness of your maid, Guinevere. I bring a message from one who would be her suitor."

Morgana immediately paid close attention. Gwen was not only her maid but her dear friend and she would do anything that she could to improve her happiness. She leaned in closer to hear the message and promised to fulfil its contents.

"Thank you," said the stranger. "It means a lot to him and it will mean a lot to many others. Love is one of the most powerful magics in the world." She abruptly turned with a swirl of her cloak, her final words drifting back to Morgana's ears. "We shall return the other magics to this land."

Morgana tried to think if she had heard correctly, such talk of magic, especially to one of the royal household was treason. This woman had been beyond bold but for the grey-eyed young woman, it had also struck a chord with her. If magic were to return, then she and others like her would finally be free and safe from persecution. It never occurred to Morgana until later to wonder how she had managed to evade the heavily guarded private castle grounds.

* * *

Arthur sat up in his bed, sweat beaded his forehead and he cursed the wine he had drunk as well as all the previous days' talk of destruction, magical books and love. He had had a most disturbing dream (or nightmare) in which he had seen his beloved Camelot fall and burn at the hands of a faceless army whilst dragons flew overhead, one of which carried Guinevere and Lancelot who laughed as the Black Knight stood with sword raised over a kneeling Arthur. In the background, he had seen Merlin dragged away in fiery chains of magic.

The moon shone bright in the night sky and Arthur got up to look out of the window and was met with the unexpected sight of Guinevere strolling unhurriedly across the courtyard.

Without thinking and unable to sleep anyway, the prince threw on his shirt and loped down the stairs without pausing to put on his boots.

Gwen had not been able to sleep since her mistress had told her of the news of a secret admirer. Morgana had informed her of the plan to arrange a meeting that very evening but the maid's naturally cautious personality had prevented her from acting so hastily. Thus, her mind had been whirling with excitement and thoughts of dire consequences in equal measure.

She could not help the squeak of alarm that escaped her as a male figure suddenly appeared in the darkness in front of her. It took a few incredulous seconds before her brain registered who the barefooted person was.

"Sire?"

* * *

**hope you liked it and it was worth the wait. Please review and let me know its progress x**

**I have a vague suspicion that I may have over-complicated the plot a bit :/**

**oh, well, never mind, I'm sure there will be a way around it :p  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**Note: **with a new-found burst of inspiration, I'm going to make good on it while it lasts! Many thanks to _s11235 _for her positive review after such a long break so as a reward, here is a big chunk of arwen fluffy slush.

* * *

Relief and a raised heart-rate flooded through Gwen as she recognised who it was who had appeared before her in the middle of the night and instinct prompted a reaction common to most people in a similar situation. She aimed a rather firm slap at his arm.

"You scared the life out of me!" Her hand met his muscled upper arm with a solid thwack and she drew back her right hand and clutched it in her left one. "Ow!" Gwen glared at Arthur reproachfully as if it were his fault that she had hurt her hand, which (she thought) if you squinted a bit and looked at it from afar, it was.

Arthur thought about pretending that her slap had also hurt but he decided that it was best not to test her wrath any further. "Are you alright?" he asked solicitously. If she hadn't looked like she was in genuine pain, he would have laughed but instead he gently lifted her injured hand in his and held it up to the bright moonlight to examine it briefly. "I don't think it's broken but it might be a bit bruised later. You gave it a bit of a whack." He lowered her hand but left it cradled in between his own two.

Arthur said nothing as she muttered darkly, "On your stupid shoulder," though she did nothing to draw away from him. "What are you doing out here at this time anyway?"

He raised a fair eyebrow at her, "I might ask the same of you."

"I couldn't sleep so I thought I would go for a walk." Her eyes looked soulfully up at him, searching for his explanation.

"The same." His light eyes picked up the moon- and starlight and they shone with life.

Gwen glanced down at his feet and smirked disbelievingly. "Without shoes?"

Arthur wriggled his toes as he thought about how to reply. "Well, you see, I was thinking about going for a walk and I saw you from the window and it's such a late hour, I didn't know if you were in danger or not so I came down in a bit of a rush." He groaned inwardly. That must have been the most unmanly thing to have ever sounded from his lips and he was glad that Merlin wasn't present to hear him.

Gwen regarded him silently, studying him curiously as realisation came to her. "You were concerned for my safety?" She was glad of the darkness which hid the hot blush which flared on her cheeks. It was then that she took in how he wore only a pair of loose breeches and a shirt which looked hurriedly thrown on and was untied at the neck, leaving it open and accentuating his tousled hair which she had a sudden urge to run her hands through.

It also occurred to her that she was not attired much better. Firmly believing that her chances of meeting anyone at this hour were slim to nil, she had simply slid her feet into soft shoes and flung a light wrap around her shoulders. The night was mild and her nightdress long. However, she hadn't bargained on meeting Prince Arthur and in her surprise, her wrap had slipped down over her elbows and the light linen of her dress billowed around her.

This detail was not lost on the prince who noted that the bright moonlight shining behind the young woman lit through the white material and outlined her silhouette beneath the fabric. He gulped a little and tried to focus on her face rather than scanning over her petite form.

The way he was looking at her made Gwen feel terribly self-conscious and very aware of her hand still being held in his. She started to pull it gently from his grasp.

He relinquished it quickly. "Sorry, I forgot."

"Oh, no, it's alright. It's feeling much better now." She didn't know where to look, she was too awake to return to her room but she had no desire to stay standing in the courtyard with the Prince of Camelot and steadily drowning in awkward silence.

Arthur took a breath and decided to plunge in with his next sentence. "Guinevere, um, well, since we're both here and still awake, would you care to walk with me? It's a nice night and at least I know that you're safe."

The way he spoke her name made her feel funny inside and her stomach did a little flip-flop. "Thank you. But your feet…"

Arthur smiled down at her. "They're fine, I'm made of sterner stuff than a few pebbles and twigs." He led them towards the gardens where the flowers had bloomed gloriously and the air was scented with many delicate floral notes.

They both thought how odd it was that their midnight walk seemed to take them out of the realms of reality and swept away the formal barriers which dictated their behaviour during normal waking hours. At the same time, they both thought how comfortable and happily content they felt in this situation.

* * *

**Just a little aside to show our favourite would-be couple how much they really like each other :D**

**x**


	13. Chapter 13

**Note: sorry for delay again, had a nasty D & V bug which laid me out :(**

* * *

A few weeks later and Lancelot had begun his training with Arthur in his quest to become a proper knight. Despite his initial feeling of unease and dire warnings of destruction, Arthur quickly grew to like the newcomer both for his personable nature and for his prowess on the training field.

Up to this point, Lancelot had been using spare parts from the armoury to make up a full, if mis-matched suit. However, with Arthur realising the seriousness of Lancelot's intent, it was now deemed time for his own suit of armour to be made.

"Just get the armourer to measure him instead," was the prince's response to Merlin's worry that it would be Gwen who would be taking the measurements.

Merlin raised an eyebrow at him. "And how likely do you think that will be? You know that man is a law unto himself and he certainly won't do it himself."

"Then I'll just get another armourer." Arthur pouted slightly. Merlin said nothing as he waited for his master to see the dilemma in a logical light. Uther Pendragon had employed the all of the finest craftsmen to work for him and it would be impossible to replace any of them with someone better. The king would be more than a little put-out to find that one of his most valuable members of staff gone and someone of inferior skill in his place.

The armourer, though undoubtedly talented, also had the dubious trait of having the arrogance to match his talent and so had refused to do any tasks which he deemed beneath him. Instead, he trusted them to his apprentices, or in many cases, to the blacksmith and his daughter.

As his logic cleared, Arthur took on a less petulant tone. "Can you not do it? You're good with clothes and things, aren't you?"

"Clothes, yes. Armour, no," stated Merlin.

Arthur shook his head with incomprehension.

The sorcerer puffed with an exasperated air. "Clothes are made of cloth," he began.

"Clearly." Arthur wasn't sure what point his servant was trying to make.

"There's more room for manoeuvre, for adjustment. You can't do the same with steel. I don't know where more space might be required or how it might sit when it's finished. If it's completed and the armour doesn't sit right and can't be fixed, a whole new piece will have to be made."

Arthur continued to look blank.

"It's time-consuming and expensive!" Sometimes the prince's ignorance or complete lack of thought astonished Merlin.

* * *

"So, where are we going?" asked Lancelot with all the enthusiasm of a puppy as Merlin led them through the lower town.

They entered the blacksmith's forge where they found Prince Arthur waiting for them.

"Lancelot," greeted the prince. "Today, you're going to get your own armour."

Lancelot's eyes glittered with glee at the news. He turned at the sound of soft footsteps approaching, a new presence to join the three men. To his surprise, he saw the young woman he had bumped into all those weeks ago and who had immediately captured his attention. Although he had not been consciously thinking about her, he found that her image lingered on the edges of his mind.

Gwen had been taken aback when Arthur had appeared at her father's forge unannounced earlier that day and she had barely taken in the request he'd asked of her. She couldn't help but recall that the last time the prince had been in the forge, she had enjoyed herself immensely as well as having the opportunity to lay her hands on his person in a way restricted to few people.

Then, there had been the strange but pleasurable incident of the moonlit walk in the castle gardens. They had talked and laughed long into the night – sharing tentative childhood stories and experiences. She had been surprised at how he seemed genuinely interested in her and her life and in return, she discovered a facet of him which he kept well-hidden from the world at large. He had mentioned his mother and his pain at having never had the opportunity to know her and his father's reluctance to talk about Ygraine. Touched by his rare show of emotion, she had instinctively reached for his hand and hold it comfortingly and Arthur had not even blinked at her action. For that one night, they had simply been two people, albeit in nightclothes, who talked without the constraints of their class-divide.

Now, she found herself being watched by the two men (apart from her father) she thought herself closest to, _and not in a purely platonic way_, she mentally added, as she tried to quickly and methodically take the measurements of the handsome man she had met for only a few brief seconds but whose image had stayed in her mind.

* * *

Merlin would have bet he saw Gwen's hands tremble just a little and if asked, Arthur would have sworn she bit her lower lip as she moved around Lancelot with her measuring tape. The sorcerer looked over at his master and noted that the square jaw had taken on a certain tightness and he was mildly alarmed at the pulsing of the prince's jugular vein. He followed Arthur's eye-line and saw the cause of his consternation. Gwen and Lancelot were paused in their actions, sharing a shy flirtatious smile and there was a look of almost-adoration in the olive-skinned man's face.

They were interrupted by an abrupt, "So, are we finished here, then?" Arthur straightened up from the work bench which he and Merlin had been perching on while Gwen worked. Startled, Gwen turned at the sound of Arthur's voice and noticed an odd expression on his face - if she didn't know any better, she would have called it jealousy! She suddenly felt warm at the thought of Prince Arthur fighting with another man over her humble little self.

"Uh, yes, my lord," she managed to stumble out.

Lancelot recognised the look and tone of Arthur which told him that he was somehow stepping on the other man's toes with regard to the young woman who had so captured his attention. He took Gwen's hand in his and brought it to his lips, brushing them gently against her skin all the while holding her eyes with his. "I hope we shall meet again soon. My lady."

"Oh no," Gwen shook her head embarrassedly. "Just plain Gwen." She was painfully aware of Arthur's presence and how he might be somewhat put out that she, a commoner, had been addressed by another commoner with a noble title.

"Far from plain," Lancelot smiled.

By that moment, Merlin knew he had to disperse the situation judging by the way Arthur's pale skin had taken on an unnatural flush and his blue eyes had become almost icy.

"Well, then," Merlin said brightly to his fellow servant, "it's getting late and we should let you get some rest. Thanks for your help, Gwen." He (not so subtly) took Lancelot by the elbow and virtually herded him out of the forge.

In a turn-around from how he had behaved towards her earlier in the day, Arthur now barely looked at her as he bade her good-night and the maid was left feeling as if she had wronged the prince without knowing how or why.

* * *

Nimueh stared in satisfaction at the interaction between Gwen and Lancelot. She had been a tad disgruntled at the failure of Morgana to persuade her maid to meet the would-be knight before then but their eventual meeting had the desired effect of further planting the seeds of attraction.

However, not even the witch could forsee the events which would lead to the expulsion of Lancelot from Camelot, the destruction of the griffin and the eventual reinstatement then departure of Lancelot. Nimueh let out a growl as she considered the thorn that Merlin was becoming in her side.

* * *

As the months passed and seasons changed, Gwen considered how events had occurred and her feelings change. She had let herself become carried away by Lancelot's endless enthusiasm and there was no denying the genuine affection they had for each other but he had left and she had remained with an aching heart. Gwen had also finally come to realise that her feelings for Merlin would always go unrequited. She had to face facts, her interest to men was not sufficient enough to keep them near her and she felt she was destined to be a spinster.

She had also relinquished any flights of fancy she had about the Prince of Camelot – she had been foolish to imagine herself as anything but a servant to him. They had shared no further moments of sentiment, she had not accompanied him on any further visits to Gran-gran though Merlin had informed her that he had met the delightful old woman and that she had continued to ask after the young woman and told Arthur to bring her to visit once more.

For his part, Arthur had tried with no great amount of success to distance himself from Morgana's maid. The memory of how she had held his hand in the rose garden was still fresh in his mind and time had done nothing to fade it. He had surprised himself at how easily he had been able to talk to her and share his deepest emotions and how he had wanted to continue spending his time with her. It had only been the approach of the coming dawn that finally broke the spell of the moon and forced them back to the castle and to their rooms. More significantly, they had continued to hold hands up to the point of the castle steps and only then, it seemed to be with the utmost reluctance that they let go of each other.

Since then, the prince had realised that he wanted her as much more than just a tumble in a hayloft and as a result, had consciously guarded against any acts of tenderness or regard which might sneak their way into his heart without him being aware of it.

* * *

**please review and any ideas on how this fic might progress and finally be wound up will be most gratefully received! **

**xx  
**


	14. Chapter 14

**Note: fluffy thanks to **_**guardian izz ; s11235; TheAngelGirl1992 **_**for their continued reviews and plot bunnies :D

* * *

**

"Who's that?" asked Arthur.

Merlin followed his eye-line to finally rest upon the figure of a tall, red-haired young man who had recently entered into castle life as Sir Leon's page. He hadn't had much contact with the youth but from the odd conversation and passing greeting, he couldn't find anything to dislike about him. At this moment in time, he was engaged in a chat with Gwen.

"Ah, that's Bedwyr, he has just begun training with Sir Leon. I believe he is the son of a friend of Sir Leon's father. He seems a decent sort and eager to serve Camelot."

"Hmpf. He looks a bit shifty to me."

Merlin took a second, quizzical look at Bedwyr who had an open, friendly face liberally sprinkled with freckles which rather than marring his appearance, instead enhanced his boyish looks. "Really? I can't see it myself."

"Then you're not looking closely enough. He's got weaselly eyes," insisted Arthur.

The sorcerer frowned. Bedwyr had green eyes which seemed to constantly be round with permanent wonder. "Nope, still can't see it."

"He's pale like a milk-maid."

"You're not exactly bronzed yourself."

"He's…he's…ginger!"

"That's ridiculous!"

"He's shifty," repeated the prince.

Merlin was sure that Arthur was on the verge of sticking out his bottom lip like a sulky child. He narrowed his eyes at the blond man. "This is because he's talking to Gwen, isn't it?"

"Tisn't," muttered Arthur with a guilty look.

"You've been mooning after her for months," continued Merlin.

"Mooning?"

"Like a love-sick cow," the darker man confirmed.

"Love-sick cow?!"

"See, you can't even speak properly, just keep repeating everything." Merlin's tone was vaguely triumphant.

Arthur's mouth gaped slightly, unable to speak partly due to indignation that he should be spoken to in such a way by a servant and partly because he could not deny the truth of the words.

Unable to resist the rare opportunity, Merlin continued to tease his friend. "Face it, Arthur, you can't fight fate." He said this with a beautific smile.

Arthur responded with a glare and a very unregal, "Shut up and go find some armour to polish."

Knowing he had found his master's weakness, Merlin could only grin as he departed with a, "Certainly, my lord."

* * *

Now alone, Arthur sighed and his shoulders slumped as he carried on watching the interaction between Gwen and Bedwyr. He understood that he was behaving stupidly when it came to Guinevere. He had never before experienced the kind of jealousy he felt when he saw another man flirting with her and she reciprocating. At the same time, he knew he was being hypocritical by not letting her know his feelings and yet resenting any interest she might have in anybody else.

Apart from Merlin, the only other person who was privy to his private feelings was Gran-gran who he carried on visiting, although now he went alone or occasionally with Merlin. On his solo visits, he had divulged his dilemma and instead of the sympathetic ear he had been expecting, Gran-gran had chastised him soundly about follies of men and regrets over chances never taken. She had then gone on to demand full updates on what he was going to do to remedy the situation – something which he had not done due to his lack of action.

Arthur turned dejectedly from the depressing scene before him and made his way back to his chambers. No sooner had he closed the door behind him than he felt the firm clout of a knobbly stick against the back of his head. He swung around to confront his assailant.

"Gran-gran!" he exclaimed. "What on earth are you doing here?" He gingerly touched the back of his head. "And 'Ow'! What was that for?"

"Young man, when I ask you to do something, I expect it to be done – especially for your elders." The little old woman was sprightly even as she appeared to totter over to sit on a chair.

"And what was it I was to do?" His fingers probed his scalp gently as he took a seat opposite her. There was going to be quite a lump there in a few hours. He would never have guessed that Gran-gran was so strong.

She jabbed a finger towards his chest which he instinctively leaned back to avoid. Arthur had never had seen her in a mood such as this and he found it quite disturbing.

"You were supposed to have brought that charming Guinevere to see me again."

His eyes widened in disbelief. "Is that all?"

" 'Is that all?' he says." She huffed to no-one in particular before fixing him with an emerald glare. "Have you shown her your true feelings yet?"

Once again, Arthur was amazed at how this seemingly-benign old woman could cut through a lifetime of well-trained royal demeanour with the sharpness of a razor and leave him tongue-tied like a simple knave. He went red as only Gran-gran could make him and he shook his head. For some reason which the prince had never quite worked out, he was thoroughly unable to keep something from her for any great length of time.

"And why not?" she demanded gummily. If she wasn't quite so determined, Arthur would have found it all to be a bit comical. As it was, though, he shrugged, lost for words as she studied him with a faintly critical expression. He watched as she rifled grimly through her robes to eventually pull out an intricately engraved hip flask which she took a deep draw from.

"Ahhh, nothing like a bit of honey wine to light a fire in your belly," she regarded the silver container with satisfaction before offering it to her 'grandson' who didn't dare to refuse.

The burning sensation didn't register for a few seconds then it hit – he thought his throat had caught fire and spread through his chest then stomach. Then the coughing started and the teary redness of his eyes. To the uninitiated, it was a beverage that was unique in its ability to cause an extraordinary amount of pain to the drinker yet leave them wanting to experience it again just to savour the delicately sweet flavour that remained on whatever tastebuds had survived the initial assault.

"Are you going to let that girl slip through your fingers? You will never find another like her, you know."

When Arthur finally found his voice, it was raspy from the golden liquor. "It is not possible. She barely sees me and only pays attention when she is duty-bound. In any case, Father would never allow it."

Gran-gran clucked her tongue at him. "And since when were you so easily dissuaded from a task? If you do not show interest in Guinevere, how can you expect her to show interest in you. As for Uther, he needs to open his eyes to the world again and see that not everything is bound by centuries-old codes and vows."

She muttered something that Arthur was sure sounded a lot like, "goodness knows, I broke most of them." However, he knew that couldn't be true. His Gran-gran was old but not _that_ old!

"Arthur," she said kindly, "if you do not take the chance, you will miss a great opportunity. You will spend your life wondering about 'what ifs' and 'maybes'. So what if it does not work out the way you want it to? At least you would have tried. And if it lives up to all that you ever hoped for, then so much the better." She cocked her head slightly as she waited for his reply.

The blond man studied his hands for a while as he weighed up the options and their consequences. In the back of his mind, he remembered the prophecy and knew that it was somehow supposed to come to pass – if he wanted it to. He chewed his bottom lip and knew that he did indeed want it. Arthur looked up and nodded at the elderly woman, his decision unspoken but clear in his eyes.

"Super," she grinned at him before raising the silver flask again. "More honey wine?"

* * *

Amber eyes twinkled with a mixture of amusement and disapproval. "Lys, that was naughty of you. You know you're not supposed to tamper with events. It is not set in stone that they are meant to be together at all – it is but one of many foretellings."

"Oh, I know all that, but really Les, if you had seen them together, you would have done the same as me. Besides, if that witch is doing it, why shouldn't we?"

Eirlys had always been more impetuous in her behaviour than her elder sister and she had retained a slight 'tit-for-tat' mentality from childhood.

Alesta shook her head warningly. "Nimueh tampers to further her own power regardless of the consequences for others. We do not."

* * *

Following Gran-gran's unannounced visit, Arthur had now been given even more reasons to try to win over Guinevere – not least one being a rather stout and knobbly walking stick. He had to make a plan and just in case it did not succeed, it was a plan he had to keep to himself.


	15. Chapter 15

Morgana wandered along the forest trail, basket slung over her arm as she scanned the ground for edible mushrooms. She was dressed casually in loose trousers and tunic with a leather jerkin over the top while a short sword sat belted at her left hip. It was a rare occasion where the King's ward had been able to go into the forest unescorted and she made the most of her freedom, enjoying the way fingers of sunlight penetrated the leafy canopy to cast dappled shadows over the forest floor.

Away from the castle, she felt she could breathe – no longer stifled by Uther's oppressive regime against magic and constantly on her guard in case someone suspected her and told the king. Smiling to herself, Morgana closed her eyes briefly before carefully checking around her, senses attuned to her surroundings. For some time now, she had felt the power of magic tingling through her and a growing urge to find experiment and find an outlet for it. Her nightmares had not lessened despite Gaius's sleeping draughts and she often woke up to find her room in disarray and Sir Leon still occasionally reported strange things happening to him.

Certain that she was alone in a small clearing, the grey eyed young woman spotted patch of wild snapdragons, a few of them had flowered into beautiful pink and peach blossoms but many were still in bud. A small line appeared between her brows as she concentrated on directing the flow of magic. Visualising what she wanted to happen, she held her right hand palm facing upwards and flicked opened her fingers in a way she hoped would release her powers.

She beamed broadly as green clad buds popped open to unfurl delicate petals into clusters of full blooms of colour – the whole process taking but a few seconds when it should have taken a few days. Morgana admired her handiwork, joyful that she had accomplished something without sending her surroundings into chaos.

* * *

The sound of clapping had her turning with fear in her eyes, afraid of who might have witnessed her performance. The sound of steel running against scabbard filled the air as she drew her sword. To the side of her, the King's ward saw a feminine form regarding her with admiration though her hands stopped their applause. There was something familiar about her, especially the startling blue eyes which seemed to hint at some hidden knowledge, but Morgana could not place how she knew her or even where from. At the moment, she was more concerned about what this woman had seen and what she was going to do about it.

"Who are you?" Morgana kept her sword raised, her posture defensive.

"Nicely done," the woman nodded her head towards the snapdragons, not acknowledging Morgana's query.

"Who are you?" Morgana repeated, this time more emphatically.

Again, her question was ignored, instead replaced by another question. "Would you like to learn how to do more?" The woman began to step closer to Morgana, "Would you like to know how it feels to hold the power of life and death in your hand?" She paused. "Would you like to see Uther defeated and the persecution of magic ended once and for all?"

Morgana did not reply though, inside, her head screamed "Yes!" to each question. She could only stand and stare until the woman was right in front of her and placing an almond shaped opal into her free hand.

"When you have decided, shatter the stone and I will come." With that, the mysterious woman vanished, no puff of smoke or anything, not even a 'pop' – simply disappeared.

* * *

It took a minute or two for Morgana to gather her thoughts enough to remember that the woman had said 'when' and not 'if'. She wanted to sit down and digest what had just happened but a rustling sound drew her attention. Had the stranger reappeared?

Relief tainted with a hint of disappointment washed over her as a friendly dark blond man emerged from the tree line. "Lady Morgana?"

"Sir Leon. I wasn't expecting to see you out here."

The knight strode over to her. "I was out hunting." He looked around before pointing concernedly at her still-unsheathed sword. "Are you alright? I thought I heard voices but I couldn't see who it was until I came through here."

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm fine, thank you. I was just, uh, doing some practise. It's been a while since I last went to the weapons master." She hoped that a winning smile would distract him from her poor excuse and gentleman that he was, Leon only gave her a slightly puzzled shrug before offering to accompany her for the rest of her outing.

After her mysterious and troubling encounter, Morgana decided to accept Leon's offer, glad for the company and not at all opposed to reacquainting herself with his easy manner and conversation. With him, she did not feel the need to maintain strict formalities and she could almost tell him anything. Almost.

She sheathed her sword and linked her right arm through his proffered elbow. In her left hand, her fingers remained curled around a small, smooth gemstone.

* * *

Merlin studied Arthur closely as he tidied up the mess the prince had left as he got dressed to begin the day. Arthur had been behaving oddly over the last few days – he hadn't been nearly so demanding as usual which was suspicious enough but there was something else and it took a little time before he put his finger on it. He was humming to himself! Arthur never hummed – about anything, ever!

Finally, Merlin could stop himself no more. "What is wrong with you?" he demanded of his master.

With none of the rancour that Arthur would treat such a lack of politeness from a servant, albeit a friend, the blond replied easily with genuine confusion, "What do you mean?"

"This, you, humming! It's not like you, so, what's wrong?"

"Nothing is at all wrong, quite the opposite, in fact. Besides, a man can hum if he wants to, can he not?" he gave Merlin a friendly punch on the shoulder before practically bounding out of his chamber.

"Enchanted, he must be enchanted," muttered the sorcerer to himself as he finished his tidying.

* * *

Arthur was feeling rather pleased with himself. Conditions were perfect, in keeping with his secret plan to win over Gwen, he had made up excursion on which he had ordered the armourer and the blacksmith, Gwen's father, to go and examine a new source of steel which would possibly supply the kingdom. For such an important commission, Arthur felt it was only right that two of the finest craftsmen should personally go to inspect the quality of the steel.

Due to the distance, it meant that Guinevere would be free from the scrutiny of her father for several days. Taking Gran-gran's advice to heart, he spoke to the castle cooks and took delivery of a specially prepared basket. Certain that Gwen was fully occupied with castle duties for the day, he informed his father that he was going away hunting for the day, threw on a nondescript cloak and discreetly made his way to the blacksmith's forge.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: still don't own anything, still making no profit**

**Note: thanks to everyone still reading and following this fic, it's greatly appreciated :D

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It had been an extremely long day of floor-scrubbing, dish-washing and laundering and Gwen was thankful to be going home but as she approached the home she shared with her father next to the forge, she noticed a strange flickering coming from the window of the modest little house.

A little alarmed at the prospect of facing an intruder alone, the maid crept into the forge and picked out a long handled hammer. Carefully picking her way to the front door of her home, Gwen took a deep breath and deciding that surprise was her main advantage, she threw open the door and charged in brandishing her make-shift weapon at the masculine figure standing by her little wood-stove.

"Aarrgghhhh!" Gwen swung the hammer towards the intruder.

"Yaahhh!" The figure jumped back against the wall, hands held up in surrender. "Guinevere, stop! It's me!"

The hammer stopped its descent mere inches from its target as Gwen's eyes widened as she recognised the voice and then the face.

"My lord, I'm so sorry!" she quickly lowered the hammer and stepped back to a respectful distance all the while retaining a wary, uncertain expression as she took in her surroundings. She didn't know what to make of the candles and flowers laid out on the sturdy wooden table next to serving platters bearing a selection of delicately prepared dishes of savouries, sweets and fruits. There was also a flagon of wine ready to be poured. Gwen gestured at the spread and then at Arthur, "What is all this?"

Arthur smiled one of his most charming smiles. "Guinevere, this is to say thank you for all the help you have given Camelot."

Her chin dipped and with a pink flush to her cheeks she looked shyly up at him. "It is no more than anyone else has done. There's no need for all this fuss."

"There is all the need. You do so much for everyone, not just Lady Morgana and myself."

Gwen was at a loss as to what to say. It was highly irregular for a servant to receive a personal visit from a member of the royal family outside of professional requirements and it was definitely unheard of for that royal to arrange a relatively lavish meal in that servant's own home!

A question suddenly occurred to Gwen. "How did you get in? Did my neighbours not see you?"

"Well, there isn't really a strong latch on your door and to tell you the truth, not many people question you when you're Prince Arthur." He shrugged sheepishly as Gwen nodded in agreement with his last statement. After all, who was going to be brave enough to challenge the Crown Prince of Camelot?

* * *

When the initial shock had worn off, Gwen found that she settled in Arthur's company with surprising ease and they chatted and sipped wine long into the night. Not being very used to wine, Gwen had nursed her drink slowly, preferring to take water instead unlike Arthur who had worked his way through the nearly the whole flagon. While not rip-roaringly drunk as such, the prince was definitely tipsy and all formality had gone from him. He was currently lying back on his bench, one leg stretched out in front of him while the other foot remained on the floor.

"Y'know, Guinevere…" he began, blue eyes shut, "I always wondered why you're not married, all other girls your age seem to be wed with babies on their hips." He opened one eye and tried to focus a bleary blue orb on her. "What's the matter with you?"

This was not what Gwen had expected to hear and she let out a small gasp, feeling affronted at what she took to be a poorly disguised insult. "I'm sure there is nothing at all the matter with me!" she retorted indignantly. "I just don't believe that I have met the right man yet and I'm not going to commit myself and lift my skirts for the first Tom, Dick or Harry to come along because _someone_ thinks I may be getting too old to be a bride!"

She should have known that it was too good to be true, now she was being insulted in her own home by one of the few people she could do little about. However, Gwen _was_ in her own home and she was about to give Arthur another piece of her mind when she was cut off by a loud snore. _"Oh no!"_ she sighed inwardly and got up off her bench and walked around to the other side of the table. She leaned down and reached out a hand to shake his arm gently at first but with no response, she shook harder but still with no success.

Gwen was about to straighten up to ponder the situation when she was surprised to feel an arm lift up around her shoulder and pull her down to where the prince could plant a firm but sleep-filled kiss where his lips met her cheek. She even more taken aback by the words he murmured afterwards. "Good, 'cos you're going to marry me." A contented smile lit his slumbering face before snoring again.

The maid stared at the sleeping man in astonishment but there was no way she could question him tonight. All she could do was fetch the pillow and blanket from her father's bed and make Arthur as comfortable as possible while he slept off the wine.

* * *

In a deep cave below the castle, a cloaked figure materialised from the shadows and sent a thought into the silent darkness. After several heartbeats, there was a flapping of wings and the last of the dragons landed on a well-worn rocky outcrop.

"This is an unexpected but pleasant surprise," Kilgarrah addressed the figure who pushed back their hood to reveal black hair streaked with a single white lock. "You risk death by coming here, do you not remember how you barely escaped Uther when he started his purge?"

Alesta nodded, the memory of being hunted still fresh in her mind even after all this time. "I do, but my need for your aid is great."

"Then tell me what you need and I will see if I can help you."

The Great Dragon listened carefully, nodding his noble head occasionally as his friend told what she needed from him. When she had concluded speaking, he considered her intensely before asking, "Do you think she would agree?"

"I cannot say for sure, but if it happens and she does, I may not have the opportunity to come to you in the future." Their eyes met in a level gaze.

There was a pause and then he sent out his reply. _"Very well."_

In the dimness of the cavern, a long talon lifted, there was an audible snap and the cloaked figure slipped something into a deep pocket.

"Thank you, Kilgarrah, it is a great gift, one that I hope can return. I am sorry for your confinement, I hope that it shall not last for too long."

"I, too," chuckled the dragon humourlessly. "Use it wisely, Alesta. Fare thee well."

* * *

Blond lashes blinked and blue eyes squinted against the bright morning sunshine and a pained groan was emitted. "Ughhh, that wine must have been stronger than I thought." Arthur opened his eyes fully and it took some minutes for him to take in the fact he was lying on a hard bench with a pillow behind his head and a blanket covering him in a less-than regal room. Then it occurred to him where he was and he sat up slowly and gingerly. His muscles had seized up and his body didn't feel like it belonged to him. Moreover, he had a painful hangover.

"Guinevere?" he called out tentatively before spotting the note left on the table. In neat, flowing script, Gwen had let Arthur know that she had to go to work but that she thanked him for the meal. There was nothing else written, like everything else with Gwen, the note was polite and efficient. Next to the note was an apple and a cup of water, clearly meant for him to take as breakfast. The prince realised that that was probably what passed for a normal breakfast for Gwen unlike his usual hearty cooked morning meals.

When he felt sufficiently human again, Arthur folded the blanket and placed it neatly on the bench and tidied as best he could before closing the door softly after him as he made his way back to the castle. As he meandered along, he grinned at the memory of a dream he had about kissing Guinevere and telling her she was to be his wife.

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**Hope u liked this instalment, please review**

**xxx**


	17. Chapter 17

Slender fingers played with a smooth opal, grey eyes staring into the middle distance. Lost in thought, Morgana was thinking about what she should do next. Her hatred of Uther Pendragon had markedly deepened when she returned from her forest walk for in the large square courtyard, the sight she was greeted with was a small scaffolded platform upon which a man was kneeling with his head resting on the executioner's block. The black-clad executioner wasted no time when the king raised his hand to signal the death blow. A high swing of the sharp axe, a swift downward arc, a heavy chopping sound followed by a muffled thud into a basket and gone was another innocent whose only 'crime' was to be born with the power of magic.

Morgana had turned into Leon's chest as the man's head was struck from his body and the knight had gallantly shielded her from any further view of the grisly spectacle as he hurried her into the safety of the castle. She snorted derisively to herself. Safety? For one such as her, it was like running into the mouth of a dragon rather than away from it!

Anger and outraged seethed within her heart and yet, something prevented her from immediately summoning the strange sorceress who had approached her. Nevertheless, it was so tempting to think that with a wave of the hand, Uther could be despatched and the kingdom made free from his tyranny. On the other hand, his hatred of magic aside, he was a good king with Camelot's best interests at heart and he was also the man whom her beloved late father had entrusted her care to. Indeed, she had been raised as Arthur's sibling rather than as an annoying responsibility who had been foisted upon the royal household.

The King's ward didn't know which way to turn - her loyalties were being tested to the utmost. She needed to clear her head. Picking up her cloak, she hurried out and made her way down to the nearby lake where she could get some space to contemplate.

* * *

Morgana sat at the waterside and surveyed the beauty of the mountains that rose high in the distance and she let herself drift on the stunning view but movement out of the corner of her eye brought her back to the present. A tall, amber eyed woman stood waiting patiently for Morgana to notice her.

_What was it with mysterious women appearing in front of her? One was peculiar enough without a second making herself known._

The young woman was finding that not much was surprising her anymore and this time, she waited for this newcomer to introduce herself.

Inclining her head, the woman spoke. "Pardon for interrupting your reverie, Lady Morgana. My name is Alesta."

"You know my name?"

"I have known your name for longer than you can imagine."

"Who are you? You're a sorceress?" Morgana shifted uneasily at how she seemed to be attracting magic to her – a dangerous position to be in.

"For some, yes," agreed Alesta. "To others, I am a seeress. Both require some form of magic."

"A seeress? So you can see the future, then."

"I can see _a_ future." Alesta kept her answers short, sensing it was better for Morgana to draw out and take in information at her own pace instead of being overwhelmed by someone talking at her.

"Which means you have already seen mine. That is why you are here." Morgana spoke quietly, more to herself to make sense of things rather than to question Alesta although she directed her next sentence at her. "And what do see you in mine? What happens that brings you to me?"

Morgana allowed Alesta to lead her to look directly at the water's surface.

The seeress addressed her solemnly. "What I am going to show is but one version of your destiny, the other versions, I do not know, they are the visions of others. Are you willing to see?"

The younger woman nodded, not trusting her voice.

Alesta waved her hand across the patch of water directly below them and images began to appear before them. They showed the death of Uther Pendragon and the ascension of Arthur. They showed the return of magic but also havoc caused by rogue magicians determined to gain revenge, if not upon Uther himself, then upon his son. Images of fighting between ordinary people and magic users appeared. Morgana saw the white castle of Camelot ablaze with flames and then crumble. At the end, the face of the mysterious first sorceress appeared and Morgana's eyes lit with recognition.

* * *

"What you have shown me, it will come to pass if magic returns?"

"No, not necessarily. Magic will always have a role and function, it will always be a part of life but after being repressed for so long and so much distrust spread about it, it must be re-introduced gently. People have to learn to trust magic again and it is only as good, or bad, as the person who wields it. If Arthur takes the throne before he is ready, chaos will take over because he will have no-one to guide him in this matter." Alesta looked directly at Morgana. "_You_ will have no-one to guide you."

The king's ward knew better than to deny what this woman already knew.

The seeress continued, "Do you know the last woman?"

Again, Morgana nodded and unconsciously clenched the opal in her hand. "Who is she?"

"Her name is Nimueh and a witch of great age and power. She wishes the bring the return of magic to the land – at any cost."

Morgana looked up at Alesta and opened her palm to reveal the gem. "She gave me this. Told me she could show me true power and more. I do not want it if that is the cost."

Alesta recognised the summoning charm for what it was and dropped it into a black cloth pouch, the dark material smothering some of its enchantment. She then placed a cool, comforting hand on Morgana's shoulder. "You must trust yourself." She smiled kindly. "Know that you are not alone in your powers and that there are those who can and will help you. Be strong and do not be led by those who would seek to use you for their own ends."

With that cryptic statement, Alesta left Morgana with more questions than answers and nobody to ask.

* * *

Arthur hadn't seen Gwen for a week or so now, ever since his surprise dinner for her. He thought that his plan had gone rather well and must surely have won her over and he was baffled to get the impression that she was deliberately avoiding him.

He had caught her whispering furtively to Merlin once or twice but would hurry off as soon as she spotted him and he felt that must not be a good sign!

"Merlin," he called his servant to him.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Merlin," began Arthur, "have you noticed Guinevere behaving strangely at all, lately?"

Merlin adopted a studied look of ignorance, unwilling to get involved in whatever situation was developing between his friends. He was beginning to regret ever telling Arthur of the prophetic book! Just the other day, Gwen had gone to the sorcerer and told him of Arthur's sleepy mutterings then asked him if he knew what it might be all about. He had tried to laugh them off as drunken ramblings but Gwen was not so easily deterred and after further pressing, Merlin mentioned to Gwen that Arthur had a belief that they were meant to be together and that he was sincere in his intention towards her. It was not the entire truth but neither was it a lie either.

In hindsight, Merlin saw that he could have probably put it to Gwen a little more diplomatically as she had definitely been a touch spooked by his explanation. She simply could not envisage a lowly servant capturing the attention, let alone the heart, of the Prince of Camelot. It had to be a selfish fancy that Arthur had chosen to impose on her and as a result, she was more determined than ever to stay out of his way.

* * *

"Eirlys," Alesta's tone was quiet and serious. "I must speak with you. Nimueh is over stepping her powers and must be stopped." She sat closer to her sister. "She is stronger than me and because of this, I have a great request to ask of you."

The younger sister listened carefully with bowed head, saying very little until the end when she said, "I must think, Les. Give me time, give me until tomorrow evening." Respecting her wishes, Alesta gave Eirlys a hug then vanished to return to the keep which had been her home for longer than she cared to remember.

* * *

"You did _what_?!" bellowed Arthur.

"I had to, she wasn't believing me." Merlin pursed his lips. "On the bright side, you don't need to hide your feelings anymore."

"Idiot! I don't need to hide my feelings because she is doing a great job of hiding from me already. I had a vision? She probably thinks I'm a madman!" Arthur threw himself dejectedly onto his bed and groaned. "Doomed. We're all doomed."


	18. Chapter 18

**Note: ok, this chapter is for Guardian Izz since she gives me such detailed reviews and has made a special request. This chapter will be longer and incorporate some of the scenes and ideas she would like to see :D xxx**

**Very importantly, the flowers and plants used, with the exception of mint, may very well be highly poisonous if ingested – so please don't! I have used them in this fic purely because I liked the names

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Following Merlin's confession that he had told Gwen of her destiny to be Arthur's wife, she had made sure to keep busy enough to stay out of the prince's way but she had not confided her knowledge to anyone else. For Arthur's part and to Merlin's exasperation, Arthur seemed to talk of nothing else _but_ Gwen. Her beauty, her kindness, her intelligence, her smile, her knowledge, the way she walked, the way she talked, on and on – the list was endless!

On this particular occasion, they were at the stables cleaning out Arthur's horse (or rather, Merlin cleaned out the horse while Arthur stood and watched). Unsurprisingly, the prince continued to talk about his new favourite subject whilst every so often, offering advice on how best to muck out the old straw! It was all Merlin could do to prevent himself from hitting Arthur over the head with his shovel. Instead, he amused himself with thinking of different spells which would turn him into a toad… or a bat…maybe an ant… perhaps a…

"Merlin!" barked Arthur. "Are you even listening to me?"

The sweat and muck-stained sorcerer looked up from his hot and smelly work. "No. I mean, 'Yes'. And with baited breath."

Arthur looked faintly hurt. "Well, there's no need to be sarcastic."

Merlin dug the blade of his shovel, tip first, into the floor of the stable so it stood upright and propped his arm on it before looking directly at the prince. "You haven't shut up about Gwen for days, weeks even! And that's _all_ you've done – _TALK_! You're not going to get anywhere just rabbit-ing on at me."

"I'm just trying to sort out what I want to say to her first before I actually tell her," was the defensive reply.

"No, you're not. What you're doing is stalling and everything you've told me so far is exactly what Gwen should be hearing – from you!"

"She won't believe me, besides, she runs whenever she sees me, even if I might be a hundred yards away." Arthur's lower lip stuck out in a slight pout.

Merlin sighed. Despite his exasperation, he felt sorry for his friend. "Look, just tell Gwen. The worst that can happen is that she ignores you though that's pretty much what she's doing now, anyway. Find her and tell her." he grinned mischievously. "You never know, she might just find your blundering words charming enough to fall for you."

"Blundering?" spluttered Arthur.

"Yep. Now, go away and find her so I can get some peace to finish cleaning out _your_ horse." Merlin picked up his shovel and resumed his task.

"Hah, that's what servants are for," retorted Arthur in a jokingly haughty voice. He turned and began to stride out of the stables. Before he exited, however, Merlin heard a, "Thank you, Merlin."

* * *

Unbeknownst to the two young men, one of the castle maids had been passing by the stables on her way back to her duties in the kitchens when she heard Gwen's name mentioned. Unfortunately for them, she had only caught the final few sentences and what she heard made her worry for Gwen.

Nerys was a woman of middling years with brown hair threaded with grey pulled into a bun and a comforting plumpness around her middle. She had a matronly air that matched her kindly round face which held warm hazel eyes and full lips that were always ready with a friendly smile and kind words. Her hands were rough from her work but it was good, honest work and she was not ashamed of them. She had worked for the House of Pendragon since she was a girl and she knew Camelot and its people as well as any.

The cook's assistant was particularly fond of Gwen who she looked upon as a daughter. Since the girl had lost her own mother at a very young age, Nerys had taken the child under her wing and looked after her whilst Gwen's father, Tom, was at work. This continued when Nerys had helped her to find work at the castle and managed to gain Gwen a decent position as Lady Morgana's personal maid.

Just as she had watched Gwen grow from a quiet and reserved girl to a reserved but confident young woman so she had watched the progress of Arthur. In contrast to Gwen, Arthur had no such reservations – he was prince and heir to Camelot and he knew it! Not only that, he was the only child and son of Uther Pendragon and he would not be denied anything. As if that was not enough, the small blond boy quickly demonstrated a prodigious talent for weapon-craft as well natural intelligence. It was a surprise to all the castle staff that although Arthur was most assuredly as arrogant as any royal might be, he was not nearly as trying as he probably should have been. By some kind of miraculous good fortune, the boy had tempered his spoilt upbringing with the traits of empathy and compassion even if he might not always demonstrate or be aware of those qualities.

As Arthur passed from childhood into late adolescence and then early adulthood, his studies into warcraft, strategy, diplomacy and general leadership skills had started to give way to interests common to most young men – namely the pursuit of girls.

Camelot's prince had been blessed with dashing good looks and combined with an abundance of charm and smooth articulation, he began to develop quite a reputation amongst the pretty young female members of the household staff. This was not to say, however, that his attentions did not stray to more mature women and if asked, Arthur would have to say that his most enduring and memorable experience involved a chambermaid some ten years his senior. She contributed most to this part of his 'education'. Needless to say, when his father finally found out about his son's dalliance after three months, Uther had been more than a little displeased and the maid quickly dispatched to a post on a distant estate several days ride from the castle city.

However, as Arthur left behind his teenage years and passed in adulthood, his romantic (and carnal) pursuit of female servants had dramatically decreased in favour of the daughters of nobility although even then, it was not very marked. However, such a reputation as his persisted, albeit to a lesser degree, and the older members of the household still maintained a cautionary eye over the newer maids. It was not that the blond prince meant any badness or malice, per say. It was simply that his station in life meant that any fallout from such frolics would always affect his chosen partner and never himself.

* * *

To say that Nerys was alarmed to hear the prince had expressed more than a passing interest in Gwen was an understatement. If there was any young woman who should be spared the potential heartbreak and besmirching of virtue, it was her dear Gwen. The matronly woman had always felt that life had dealt the ladies' maid a difficult hand and she had always made it her business to ensure that Gwen should be left as trouble-free as possible.

Overhearing that the blacksmith's daughter was already making a concerted effort to avoid Arthur served only to confirm the need to keep Gwen safe from him.

Nerys arrived back at the kitchens and immediately sought out her two most trusted friends – woman who had begun their working lives at the castle at around the same time and who had forged an enduring friendship. She confided in them her newfound information and they set to work on a plan to keep Gwen from Arthur. However, they also realised the necessity to not tell Gwen of their plan – she was proud and independent and would never agree regardless of their good intentions.

* * *

Mistress Eirlys, elderly homesteader and surrogate grandmother to the heir of Camelot, pottered slowly around her little home, taking in all of her little trinkets that she had collected over time. She ran her fingertips over one or two carved figurines, one a dragon and the other a mermaid. Next, there was a small silver locket, inside which was a tiny but detailed sketch of a man's face, he had a strong jaw and kind, even features.

A wistful smile tinged with sadness crossed her aged face. Her husband had been gone from the world for over forty years, dead before his time in a tragic farming accident where the wheel of the heavy wooden cart he had been driving came off over a fairly deep ditch knocking the horses off-balance. They had stumbled, bringing down themselves and the cart which had rolled on top of him, crushing him instantly. Eirlys had not expected to be left alone so soon after becoming 'mortal' and she had spent the succeeding years mourning him.

She took a last look around then tottered out of the door, leaning on a knobbly walking stick. Alesta stood waiting patiently for her sister to join her at her side before murmuring an arcane spell that transported them to a sheltered copse of trees just outside the castle walls.

* * *

Having tended to Morgana for the best part of the morning and early afternoon, Gwen was now required to help in the kitchens, running back and forth from the kitchen gardens to the cooking fires and bake-house depending on what the cook wanted. For some reason, that Gwen couldn't fathom, Nerys and a couple of the other kitchen hands were chattier than usual even though they were aware that she was busy and when they did finally let her get on with her errands, it was sometimes very abruptly and occasionally even mid-sentence.

The last time it happened, Gwen had been standing with her back to the kitchen doorway with Nerys talking nineteen-to-the-dozen with one of the other assistants by the open door. Over Gwen's shoulder, Nerys saw her friend peek outside then nod the all-clear at which point, the older woman gave Gwen a gentle pat on her shoulder and sent her on her way. It was all very peculiar and it had been going on all day and Gwen was becoming a bit perturbed by it.

* * *

Arthur had been trying to locate Gwen, he really had but she was nowhere to be found and nobody appeared to have seen her. He had passed by the laundry house three times, the gardens the same number and it was now the fourth time coming past the kitchens. Tired and getting fed up, he stopped a passing servant, Nerys her name was, he remembered her being there since he was a child and if anyone knew where Gwen might be, it would be her.

"Nerys," he called out.

"My lord?" she bobbed a curtsey to him.

"Have you seen Guinevere? I can't find her anywhere and it's rather important."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, my lord, she has not been here."

Arthur sighed quietly. "Alright. If you see her, would you tell her that I wish to see her?"

"Certainly, my lord."

Nerys frown in puzzlement after him. She had never seen such a look urgency about Arthur with relation to his chase of a female. This keen desire to find someone in particular was a new development.

* * *

To an outsider, they would have looked like an elderly woman being accompanied by her daughter. They made their way through the city gates and onwards to the castle itself.

"Can you sense her?" asked Eirlys.

"She is near. We will find her soon." Alesta led them through the courtyard to stop by the well that lay within the castle itself.

The two women leant against the stone ledge surrounding it and after only a few minutes, the figure of a curly-haired young woman in a yellow linen dress appeared walking towards them. A bright smile lit Gwen's face when she recognised who the old woman was.

"Gran-gran! How lovely to see you again. What brings you here?" Gwen hugged her.

"Well, since Arthur won't bring you to see me, I'm obliged to come to you instead. How are you, dearie?"

"Fine, busy but fine." Gwen let her gaze flicker to Alesta.

"Oh, mind my manners. Gwen, this is Alesta. She is my grand-niece from my husband's side. She is a great help to me."

Eirlys kept a straight face as she caught the merest hint of a raised eyebrow from her sister.

"Pleased to meet you, Alesta," greeted Gwen who was given a smile and 'How do you do?' in return.

The old woman glanced around before asking, "Where is Arthur? I wanted to see both of you while I was here."

Gwen shrugged slightly, "I'm not sure, possibly inside. Why don't you come in and I will check for you?"

* * *

The two older women followed her up the steps to Arthur's chamber and waited as Gwen knocked on the door which swung open after a brief wait. Arthur's blue eyes lit up when he saw who was standing there.

"Guinevere…" a discreet cough drew his attention to over Gwen's shoulder.

"Gran-gran?"

"Aren't you going to let us in? Or are we to stand out here all day?" Without further ado, the old woman pushed her way past into Arthur's room. "Well, come on then," she called back to the other three. "And that's my, uh, niece, Alesta."

Arthur and Alesta nodded to each other.

Now gathered inside the room and ordered to sit, Gwen and Arthur were somewhat surprised to see Eirlys's posture somehow straighten a bit, her voice become stronger and her manner more commanding.

"Arthur, close your mouth. I have little time and much to tell you. For now, just listen. You can ask your questions at the end."

The prince's mouth closed with a faint clop as he stared at the woman who was his Gran-gran yet, at the same time, not.

"Now then," began Eirlys, "Arthur, I know you know about the prophecy…" She held up her hand to him. "Questions later," she reminded. "I take it that Gwen does not?" she turned to the young woman.

"Um, Merlin said Arthur believed he thought we were destined to be together, he didn't mention a prophecy. I thought he might have got a touch of heatstroke."

"Hmmm." Eirlys looked thoughtfully into the distance for a minute before speaking. "Arthur, you are your father's son but you are _not _your father and you do not truly share the same prejudices. You believe in this prophecy so by the same token you must believe in magic."

Arthur frowned, unsure of what was happening.

She continued. "It is true that this particular prophecy that you and Gwen are destined to be together may well come to pass but there are dangers ahead." Eirlys's green eyes held Gwen's brown ones. "The danger lies with you, I'm afraid."

Gwen's eyes widened.

"Rather than tell you what may occur, it will be easier to simply show you." During her speech, Alesta had located the pitcher of water and washbowl at Arthur's bedside and brought them over to the table in the centre of the room. Water was poured into the bowl and Alesta gestured lightly over the water as her lips moved in whispers.

"Watch," commanded Eirlys as pictures began to appear.

* * *

The two young people watched in silent wonder as they were shown scenes of them a little older, laughing together, dressed in wedding garments and being married. More happy images of the two of them and then a picture of Lancelot, then Lancelot and Guinevere together and Arthur alone. Their faces fell as they then saw armies fighting and bloodshed. Finally, the fall of Camelot, the castle crumbling to dust and the people crying.

The images faded and shock was written on the faces of Gwen and Arthur. It was Gwen who found her voice first.

"This is what will happen?" Her voice was barely audible, her complexion had paled.

It was Alesta who answered, "Yes, _if_ you choose Lancelot. It is that decision that will decide Camelot's fate."

"Then I will _not_ choose him. I barely know him," protested Gwen.

The seeress gave her a piercing look. "Precisely how far in your future with Arthur you will face this dilemma, I cannot say. But only you know your feelings and their subtleties are unknown to me. It is your decision. All I have shown you are things that will happen if you choose a particular path.

There was a finality to her tone and statement which would brook no argument.

Arthur blinked up at Alesta. "And what if we do not marry and Guinevere does not choose Lancelot?"

"I don't know. Those paths were not revealed to me and it is not possible to know to whom they were."

He said nothing as his brain processed the information. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. "They were not revealed to you? So _you_ wrote the book!" He was going to say more but Eirlys cut him off.

"Arthur, there is an errand of importance which I must do and I may not see you for quite some time. Therefore, I have come to bid you farewell and that you look after Gwen. I, for one, believe that your destinies truly belong together and I do not wish to see them destroyed. Take care, dear one." She hugged him tightly before moving away towards the door where her sister also said her goodbyes.

Gwen stood quickly. "I'll see you out."

She led them out into the sunshine and addressed them before they took their leave. "If what Arthur said is true and you, Alesta, wrote the prophecy, which I can only assume, was a very long time ago, and you're Gran-gran's niece, that would make you both…"

"Rather older than you," finished Eirlys smartly. Before Gwen could speculate any further, she was pulled into a last big hug. "Take care, dearie, look after Arthur, he's really just a bit of a baby and you make sure he looks after you and doesn't give you any nonsense! Farewell, love."

* * *

Alesta and Eirlys stood inside the elder sister's keep situated out in the countryside, completely at peace and magically shielded from any intruders both physical and magical.

"Are you absolutely sure, Lys? You really don't have to." Alesta's concern was evident.

"You're wrong, I really do have to. Iorweth is gone and my desire to grow old with him was halted a long time ago. Nimueh cannot be allowed to interfere in this." She squeezed her sister's hand. Les gave her a reassuring hug.

From a black cloth bag, Les drew out a small golden scale which glinted in the sunlight. She ground it to a fine powder in a mortar and pestle and sprinkled in petals of Dragon's Teeth, Enchanter's Nightshade and a few mint leaves. These were pounded in with the powdered scale and mixed with a cup of honey wine before being strained into a small goblet. Alesta cast the necessary words over the drink and handed it to her sister. The golden liquid had now taken on a glittery shine which somehow seemed to reach out to Lys.

"Last time to back out, Lys. If you do this now, you can never go back."

"I know. But if I do this, then I will get to be with my sister for a lot longer than I would have done." With that, she tipped her head back and swallowed down the drink.

Nothing happened for several moments but then it took effect. Shimmering silvery light surrounded Eirlys and slowly, she changed. Wispy white hair lengthened, became thicker and turned a rich titian colour. Her spine straightened and she grew taller, stopping just shy of Alesta's height. Her skin smoothed, the lines and wrinkles disappearing. The sparkling green eyes remained the same but there was now a full set of strong white teeth where before there was only gum. Long limbs were now supple and toned. Most of all, the slight tremble of an old woman's voice faded, becoming deeper in tone and vibrant.

Despite the differences in colouring, the sisters looked similar in features with the same oval face and ever so slightly angular cheekbones, the straight nose which rounded into a little button right at the tip and full lips.

Moreover, they now both shared the same timelessness which marked them as beings with a longevity that stretched far beyond that of normal mortals.

With her natural form restored, Eirlys turned to Alesta with an air of regret.

"Gran-gran is no more."

* * *

**Phew! that was an epic chapter for me and i very much doubt it will be repeated unless someone makes a special request!**

**anyway, hope it was worth the wait. reviews for this one will be extra-specially appreciated :D xxx**


	19. Chapter 19

It was a rare day off for Gwen and she had been in inner turmoil ever since the life-changing revelation shown to her and Arthur by Gran-gran and the seeress, Alesta.

The vision appeared to tell her of a life which she would never (could never) dare dream of - to be Prince Arthur's bride was the prerogative of genuine princesses or at the very least, ladies of nobility. For a servant such as herself, it was so far beyond her reach she may as well be reaching for the stars… wasn't it? Then there was Lancelot – and her potential to be an adulteress and destroyer of men and kingdoms. That just wasn't her nature, she would never betray her true love… would she?

It made her question everything about herself and now she didn't know which way to turn. If she would have let herself think about it, Gwen would have blushed at the idea of being the love of Arthur's life but she did not. Instead, she was mortified by the knowledge that she could be the cause of Arthur's downfall and destruction. How could this be? She needed someone to talk to, someone who would not judge her, someone who was wise and would help her to put her thoughts into some semblance of order.

* * *

Gwen knocked lightly on the door and held her breath – if there was no reply, she didn't know who else she could go to. She exhaled in relief when she heard the answer, "Come in." Gently pushing open the door, the maid stepped softly inside the chamber.

"Hello Guinevere," greeted Gaius. "How are you?" He paused in his task of distilling a thick purplish liquid into a small glass bottle, setting the items onto his workbench and turning to face the young woman. He was one of the few people who still often used her full name.

"Fine," she answered softly.

_That's Gwen to a tee_, thought the physician. _Always a smile with which to face the world even when all can see that all is not well._

The maid moved to stand at Gaius's shoulder, watching curiously. "What is that?" she asked with genuine interest.

"It's a rub for bruises and pain made from lavender, violets and ground ivy." The older man finished pouring the last of his lotion before peering intently at Gwen. "That's _ground_ ivy, mind. Definitely _not_ to be confused with poison ivy."

"I'll remember that," she nodded as he plugged the neck of the bottle with a cork stopper before turning to face her directly.

"Now then, what brings you to my little world of lotions and potions?"

"I, um, I wanted to speak to you – to ask your advice, really." Gwen looked shyly at him.

Gaius was shrewd enough to perceive that Gwen was looking for more than a few flippant words of reassurance to boost her confidence and so guided her to have a seat at the small table in the chamber which served as both laboratory and living quarters. He placed a few little dried flowers and leaves into two cups and poured on water from a little kettle which sat on the small stove. A delicate scent reached Gwen's nose as Gaius brought over the two cups and set them on the table and sat across from her.

"It's a camomile and blackcurrant infusion, very good for soothing and cleansing," he explained.

"Thank you." She took a sip of the hot liquid, using the time to collect her thoughts and what she wanted to say.

Gaius was silent, happy to let her continue at her own pace.

* * *

Gwen concentrated on her cup and the way the little petals and leaves floated across the surface of the water, leaving tiny waves and ripples in their wake. She flickered an uncertain glance at the man sitting opposite her before returning her attention to the beverage.

"Do you ever get the feeling that life just conspires to make things difficult?" she asked.

Gaius's upper lip curled wryly. "I wouldn't say that – more that it throws up challenges every so often." He lifted an inquisitive eyebrow. "I take it that such a challenge has arisen for you."

Gwen lifted her head to meet him with a worried expression. "I…I…don't know how to say it." She looked away again. "It, sort of, involves magic… a bit." The last sentence was barely a whisper and Gwen immediately clammed up, aware that what she had just revealed may well have just cost her head. She chewed her lower lip anxiously as she waited for Gaius's reaction.

"I see." The physician kept his tone even and his words careful. "Well, there are many things in this world that involve magic and just because the king has outlawed it here, does not mean that magic ceases to exist."

The maid considered his reply. "A woman came to see me, well, two women actually. They told me about something they, um, saw in the future. About me… and Prince Arthur."

"What did they see?" Gaius was intrigued by the slow unfolding of Gwen's story.

"That, uh, we're married…" she spoke so quietly that he had to lean in closer to hear her.

"Married?" That was not what he had been expecting to hear. Perhaps an argument that affected the bond between them and Merlin, but not marriage!

Gwen nodded, a furious blush spreading over her cheeks. She coughed in embarrassment. "That's not all they said. It's also possible that, um, I'll destroy Arthur and Camelot." She was more than aware of how ridiculous she must sound saying those words.

Gaius slowly exhaled the breath he didn't realise he had been holding. "Dare I ask how you will do that?"

The young woman was now looking distressed and her voice was shaky. "Apparently, I'm going to have an affair… with Lancelot."

Gaius leaned back in his chair, astonishment written over his face. "Does Arthur know about this?"

"Yes." The word was a hoarse squeak. "What am I to do?"

He struggled to find his words – this was a completely new experience to him and he had no frame of reference for it. "Are the women who spoke to you to be trusted?" he finally asked.

"I've no reason to not trust them. The one who told me about it, her name's Alesta. The other woman, she's practically Arthur's grandmother." Gwen wrinkled her brow and pursed her lips as she tried to remember Gran-gran's name. "Eirlys, that's it," she said triumphantly after a few long moments.

Gaius looked intently at Gwen. "Alesta and Eirlys. Hmmm."

"Gaius, I don't want to be the cause of anything bad to happen." Her voice was small, lost. "I'm a maid. They must be mistaken. Maids don't go around marrying princes and socialising with knights. And I'd never do anything to harm Camelot! It's my home, I love it. It's all wrong. A mistake."

"What if it isn't? Did they say if you could change it?" Gaius asked gently.

"They said that it all depended on whether I chose Lancelot or not."

"And you have feelings for this man?"

"No…yes…" Gwen sighed. "I don't know." A sad smile appeared. "He's what I know ordinary people can achieve if they really want to – where you don't have to be born into privilege. And he cares about everything he does and dreams of."

"What of Arthur? Has he done anything to suggest he might have deeper feelings for you?" Gaius chose his questions carefully in order to help her to make some sense of her turmoil.

"No, not really, I don't think so." She shook her head uncertainly. "I mean, he's been quite attentive – for a prince to a servant. He, uh, prepared dinner for me a little while ago."

Gaius's eyes widened in surprise. Arthur had never been known to prepare anything for himself let alone anyone else!

"And…erm… I suppose he's been talking to me more than usual." Gwen's face remained flushed and she kept her gaze fixed on the toes of her boots.

Gaius silently congratulated himself on not letting his jaw drop open. Instead, he took Gwen's hand and gave it a fatherly pat. "Guinevere, I must ask you, what are your feelings for Arthur?"

She raised her eyes and looked pensively at the physician. "He is a good man, spoilt and arrogant to be sure, but I believe him to honourable." She gave a little nervous laugh. "I… like him." Gwen hesitated in her choice of words.

"Like? Is that all?" pressed Gaius gently. "Gwen, if you care for Arthur and he for you and if you are destined to be together, then there are worse beginnings to have."

"Gaius, I don't want to have any kind of beginning with him if it means that Camelot will one day fall if I am to make the wrong decision and forsake him."

"But, child, if you know the danger, then you know what to avoid," he reasoned.

"What if I can't? What if, when the time comes, I don't _want_ to." She shook her head. "No. I must stay away from him." With a new-found determination, Gwen set her jaw and stood up. "Thank you, Gaius, for your advice."

Startled, Gaius could only stutter, "I…I… don't think that was quite what I meant. Gwen, perhaps you should think a bit more?"

"No, no, I know what must be done." Feeling more clear-headed, Gwen left Gaius with the distinct feeling that things would not be as plain-sailing as the maid hoped.

* * *

In a small boat, two figures were cloaked against the damp coldness which seemed to constantly surround the Isle of the Blessed.

"Bleuch," Eirlys screwed her nose up at the thick mist. "This damp is playing havoc with my hair." She lifted a lock of dark-copper hair and inspected it critically. "Frizz," she grumbled.

Alesta let out a bemused and un-ladylike snort. "Vanity? Since when did you care so much about your hair?"

"Since I got my hair back," retorted the younger woman. "Please," entreated Lys, "I've had thin white hair for soooo long, just let me enjoy this for a bit then I'll stop being such a girl - I promise!"

The dark-haired sister smiled indulgently and sighed in mock exasperation. "Oh, alright, then. I suppose I can let you away with it for a short while."

Their boat stopped when its nose jolted the bank of the isle.

"Ooof! I thought you were supposed to be a good sailor," complained Lys.

Alesta shot her a warning look. "Are you going to moan all the way here and back? Because if you are, I can just as easily turn you back into a toad and I'll take my chances alone."

"Sorry," apologised Lys, sheepishly. "I'm a little nervous, I suppose, and it's a bit strange getting used to being 'young' again."

"Hmmpf, well, you'd better get used to it fast because you'll be needing all your wits about you very soon." She lifted the hems of her gown and cloak before stepping sure-footedly onto land. Eirlys quickly followed her.

* * *

Together, the sisters made their way to the centre of the isle and the ancient stone altar which stood dark and foreboding. As if sensing a need to amplify the mood, the clouds darkened from grey to dark grey accompanied by a low rumble of thunder.

"Very dramatic, I think not. More like amateur dramatics." Alesta rolled her eyes.

"So, what do we do now?" Eirlys looked impassively around them. "The name is definitely more promising than the place. Bah, 'Isle of the Blessed'. 'Isle of the Blessed Cold' is more like it!" She caught the look in Alesta's eyes and held her hands up defensively. "Sorry, no more moaning, no toads for me." She made a pulling gesture across her lips with her thumb and forefinger. "See, sealed."

Before Alesta could reply, a woman's voice cut the air. "Well, I never thought I would see you again. Alesta, I imagined you had been hunted down by Uther. Eirlys, you were supposed to have mouldered away as a hag somewhere."

"Nimueh, it's nice to see you too." Alesta smiled frostily.

The three magic-users stood in silence as tension settled over them. Again, it was the witch who broke the silence.

"Why are you here?"

"You must stop interfering with the affairs of Camelot." Alesta believed in being direct and to the point.

"Oh?" Nimueh's voice had become dangerously quiet. "And what makes you think I have been 'interfering' at all?"

"Cut the crap," interrupted Eirlys. If anything, she was even blunter than her sister. "Let Camelot be. There is nothing to be gained there."

With all semblance of courtesy blown to dust, Nimueh's bright blue eyes flared with icy fire and her voice filled with barely suppressed rage. "Nothing to be gained?" she asked incredulously. "Uther Pendragon has persecuted our kind without mercy or reason. He has killed, no, murdered countless innocents, friends and family. Mine and yours. Uther must pay with that he loves most just as I have."

"Arthur has done nothing to you and Guinevere even less."

"The blood of Uther Pendragon flows through his veins. He has stood by and allowed the slaughter to carry on without protest. Arthur Pendragon is as culpable as his father. As for the maid, consider her one of the many victims of conflict. Many from the side of magic have fallen, so others must fall."

"You cannot meddle in destiny. What you do now simply causes waves but will not disturb the flow of events," countered Eirlys.

"Destiny? I know of your 'destiny' and those of many others. This might just need a push in the right direction – for me, of course." Nimueh gave a wolfish grin.

When Alesta spoke, her voice was like steel – cold and hard. "I and those of _my_ kind are the guardians of those futures which may or may not come to pass. Seers have protected them since they came into being so the world may continue in its own balance. _No-one_ shall impose their will upon events."

"Now, don't be a spoilsport. There are always exceptions to the rule," cajoled the witch

"Not in this."

"You think you can stop me?" All traces of play disappeared from Nimueh and her tone equalled Alesta's.

"I know I can."

The air began to crackle with the build-up of magical energy as Alesta and Nimueh drew the full range of their powers to them. Eirlys caught the warning shake of her sister's head.

* * *

_**A few hours previously.**_

"_Promise me." It was a command rather than a request and Eirlys could do nothing but acquiesce to Alesta._

"_But I cannot stand by and simply watch!" protested Eirlys._

"_I certainly hope you won't just be standing and watching! But remember, you cannot sustain your magic for as long and you must choose your moment well." Alesta hugged her. "Besides, you're too heavy for me to carry back," she added cheekily._

_When their powers had started to manifest themselves as children, it soon became clear to the girls' parents that their red-haired daughter's talents lay in the elements, nature and the use of defensive magic. In direct contrast, their older child found her direction in divination of the future and she showed an innate ability for the more aggressive battle magic. _

_Together, the sisters formed a formidable team and saw off many a childhood bully. However, it also became apparent that Eirlys's magic, though powerful, tired quickly and could not be sustained for extended periods of time, leaving her vulnerable to further attacks._

_Alesta had once found nine-year-old Eirlys tied upside-down from a tree whilst her antagonist, a pudgy boy of the same age who lived nearby, was attached to an opposite tree by way of several thick vines wrapped around his legs. Twelve-year-old Alesta finally managed prise the story out of the two stubborn combatants and it turned out that an argument over some toy or other had escalated into childish spells involving dumping pools of water over each other or forming a patch of nettles around them. Eventually, Eirlys's magical stamina had run out but not before she had securely fixed the boy with impenetrable vines while he, in turn, took his revenge with tree vines of his own._

_As an adult, Eirlys had chosen to be a ranger and once severely misjudged her energy levels. After firing a sustained volley of boulders, her magic had spluttered to a halt and she had been caught in the side by an arrow from an enemy soldier. It was only the quick actions of a fellow ranger who managed to spirit her to safety and use healing spells that her life had been saved._

_It had taken some time before Alesta settled down as a seeress. Initially, she had worried their parents by furthering her training at the castle of their kingdom's ruler and becoming a battle mage, taking part in many fights alongside sorcerers of various abilities and specialities. Never once did she suffer injury during battle._

_After lifetimes of fighting and using her magic to further the ambitions of rulers or to defend her land against potential invaders, Alesta grew tired of bloodshed and opted to concentrate on her talents of foresight.

* * *

_

It had been a long, long time since Alesta had been called upon to use her fighting skills but she could feel the familiar itch in her fingertips as magic gathered, waiting to be unleashed.

"Stand down, Nimueh." Her tone was quiet, her amber eyes showed calm authority.

"Don't be ridiculous," was the scoffed reply.

Without warning, the witch released a burst of green-tinged magic designed to physically disable her opponent. However, Alesta's experience and training immediately came back to her and she countered with red-flames of her own. They traded spell for spell, flames of various colours crashing violently together. The attacks from Nimueh gradually became more vicious as a shower of daggers flew towards the seeress who halted them with a wave of her hand and directed them right back at their sender but this time the blades were aflame with tongues of white fire.

Eirlys looked on at the battle with an air of anxiousness. Whilst she had seen her share of fighting, it was still very little compared to her sister and it scared Eirlys slightly to see how cool Alesta looked – she hadn't even broken a sweat and she gave the impression she was doing nothing more strenuous than reading a book. It disconcerted her to see how easily the raven-haired woman threw out the deadliest of spells – the latest one intending to melt the flesh of the recipient. A shiver ran down Eirlys's spine as she realised how efficiently her sister must have neutralised numerous amounts of soldiers with a few slight gestures and a quickly mouthed word or phrase. It quickly occurred to her that Alesta's power was such that words were often not necessary and that neither she nor Nimueh spoke or moved their lips for much of their battle.

It also did not escape her notice that Nimueh kept an eye on her, just in case, she were to spring a surprise attack. The witch was, indeed, powerful and Eirlys saw that if the fight continued as it was, it would result in a stalemate. Alesta required her sister to tip the balance and Nimueh was aware of the fact.

As if reading her mind, Nimueh suddenly directed a rain of fiery droplets at the red-haired woman who threw up a magical shield to block the deadly shower. Angered by the new direction the fight had taken, Alesta shot spear after spear of lightning in a bid to drain the witch's energy and divert attention from Eirlys.

In response, Nimueh returned the spears whilst also re-directing them to the younger sister who used precious energy to ward off the attacks.

The magical combat continued in this way for a while and Eirlys could feel her defences weakening under the constant onslaught. Alesta noticed her sister's growing predicament and sent out a thought to her. Amber eyes met green and a look of agreement passed between them. Drawing on all of her energy, Alesta committed herself to a ferocious attack of every weapon she had in her extensive arsenal – from fireballs to hails of arrows and spells to numb the mind.

Nimueh was forced to concentrate all of her attention and powers on defending herself. In the meantime, Eirlys summoned all she had, ready to unleash in a last effort.

* * *

The ceaseless attack had begun to take its toll on the witch and her skin started to show marks where various physical missiles had penetrated her magical shield and there were burn marks where magical fire had touched her.

At some unseen signal, Alesta gathered her remaining reserves and launched her final assault. Now crouched down in a weakened state beneath an ever-shrinking protective bubble, Nimueh could only watch and summon what strength she had as her opponent rose high in the air as lightning crackled around her in a deadly aura which began to streak down towards her.

She cried out in pain as shards of white-hot fire pierced her defences as the shield began to fade around her. At the same time, the grass around the witch started to grow, becoming long and gaining a hold around and over her body. Each separate blade became thick and wove itself with other blades of grass, forming a thick and impenetrable cast which kept Nimueh pinned and unmoving to the ground.

It was not a moment too soon either as Eirlys saw the toll the battle had taken on Alesta - her forehead was now beaded with sweat and she now sported a second mallen streak. With their enemy now immobilised, Alesta floated slowly to the ground and with Eirlys, stood over Nimueh. For the first time, fear could be detected in her eyes.

"You have a choice, Nimueh. Leave Arthur and Gwen alone…or die now." Alesta's voice was quiet and terrible and her eyes held the promise of death. "Choose swiftly."

As enraged as she was, the witch was no fool and she did not hesitate. "I shall leave them be." She would find another way to gain vengeance upon Uther Pendragon.

"If you threaten the balance again, your life will be forfeit," promised Alesta.

The sisters left Nimueh bound in her grassy prison as they found their way back to their boat and journeyed back to Camelot. They had no doubt that the witch would be free as soon as she had rested and regained her strength but at least, Camelot was safe - for now.

* * *

_**sorry for the delay again, I've no excuse for it – was just being lazy and catching up with friends.**_

_**Anyhoo, hope u liked this instalment. As ever, reviews are much appreciated**_

_**x**_


	20. Chapter 20

Arthur was in the place where he felt most comfortable, where he could let instinct take over and leave his head clear to think through problems – he was on the training field where he had been testing Leon's skills for the last three quarters of an hour.

Slash! His practice sword sailed through the air in a downward arc which Leon's own blade met in a ringing crash. _It's true then. Guinevere will be my wife!_ _But how did Gran-gran know in such detail? And why had she never mentioned her niece before?_

Clash! His shield blocked a curving stroke which Leon had aimed at his right side. _And that bloody Lancelot! After I helped him become a knight and everything! _The blows he levelled at Leon grew more determined as his mind fumed about the not-quite knight who appeared to hold the key to his downfall.

Swish! _What if Guinevere really did choose Lancelot over him? What if she knew what would happen to him, to Camelot, but she still did it anyway?_ His strikes gained more fervent aggression in direct relation to his thoughts.

He was jolted from his inner monologue by the sight of Leon raising his sword in front of his chest in a gesture of surrender and pushing up his visor.

"Enough, my lord!" called out Leon, who then lowered his blade and stuck in the ground. He leant over it, hand pressed to his side to ease the stitch that had developed under Arthur's onslaught. His shield lay discarded on the turf by his feet.

* * *

Now that he had stopped moving, the prince realised that he was also tired, both mentally and physically. He desperately wanted to see Gwen and speak to her but since their last fateful encounter with Gran-gran and Alesta, there had been no sight nor sound of her. Arthur had enquired of her whereabouts from both Merlin and Morgana but he had been met either with unknowing shrugs or "I saw her a moment ago" and "She's away to the kitchen/laundry/market" but when he went to the laundry/kitchen/market, she was nowhere to be found.

He was equally, if not more, unsuccessful when he asked other members of castle staff, notably the kitchen servants. On the two occasions when he had asked them the same query, Arthur was struck by the blank stares and lack of expression on their faces as they told him (with utmost respect, of course) that they did not know where Gwen was.

* * *

Out of all the countless times that he had faced Arthur on the training ground, Leon had never felt in danger of his life or at the very least, a limb – never, that was, until now. Today, the prince seemed to be a man possessed with a feverish glint in his eyes that he hadn't seen before. When he had caught his breath, the lightly bearded man took off his helmet and regarded the prince with concern.

"My lord," he began warily, "pardon my boldness, but are you feeling alright? You seem a little, ah, out of sorts?"

By this time, Arthur had also removed his helmet and was staring distractedly across the field back towards the castle. His eyes were constantly moving, as if searching for something. "Hmm?" he barely registered his knight's voice until something in his brain clicked and he realised he had been asked a question. He turned away to look at Leon.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine." Arthur seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before shrugging almost imperceptibly. _I might as well ask him, I've asked everyone else so far! _"You don't happen to have seen Guinevere about, have you?"

Slightly puzzled, the tall knight shook his head. "No, not recently but I'm sure Lady Morgana would be the one who could tell you."

Arthur kept to himself exactly what he thought of Morgana's abilities to locate her own maid!

The puzzlement on Leon's face suddenly changed into a surprised smile. "Ah, speak of the devil, I see her now." His head had lifted back to where Arthur's gaze had rested moments before.

The prince's head whipped round in an instant. "Where?" he scanned urgently but couldn't spot her. "Where?" he repeated.

"There," said Leon, pointing at the castle, "she went into the armoury."

He had barely finished his sentence when Arthur abruptly left him with a surprising turn of speed and hastened towards the armoury. Leon shook his head as he tried to make sense of what he had just witnessed. To tell the truth, he couldn't blame Arthur – Gwen was a pretty girl - but though he did not feel it was his place to say, Leon thought that Arthur could at least try to be more discreet about his pursuit of castle maids, especially when they were the personal servants of the King's Ward. He was sure that Morgana would have some choice words for Arthur should she get wind of it.

* * *

Arthur skidded to a halt as he approached the armoury and took a deep breath before adopting a nonchalant expression as he strolled into the building. _Don't be such a ninny, you do this nearly every day. It's practically your second home!_

He deliberately kept his eyes straight ahead, moving towards the place where his own set of practice weapons were kept (his proper armour was carefully stored in his private chambers, kept in perfect condition through Merlin's efforts). Arthur pretended not to see the swirl of yellow linen on the left of his field of vision but he could not ignore the light floral scent which reached his nose and brought to mind memories of moonlit walks in rose gardens, long dark curls, soft caramel skin and beautiful smiles meant only for him. A sigh escaped his lips which, in turn, prompted Gwen to jump at the sound.

Her face flushed when she saw him and her eyes had a look reminiscent of a wild animal who found itself trapped. Remembering her place, she curtseyed. "Sorry, my lord, I did not notice you come in."

_So formal_, he thought disappointedly. He had hoped that they would have moved passed such stiffness, especially after the dinner they had shared not so long ago. The dream he had had of kissing her still made him smile.

"No harm done," he replied lightly. "Can I help you with anything?" He itched to move closer to her, to find an excuse to touch her, t just be near her.

"Ah, no, I just came to fetch Lady Morgana's practice sword, she wishes to spar today." Gwen held the weapon in her hands, careful to hold the scabbard upright.

"Oh, right." He began to move towards a small rack of weaponry just off to the side of the maid. "Hers are kept here and…"

"Um, I, uh…I've got it here." Gwen glanced at the sword she carried and smiled awkwardly, uncomfortable at having interrupted him.

Arthur bit his lower lip. _Idiot!_ He berated himself. _Of course she knows where Morgana's things are kept…and she's the blacksmith's daughter! _Arthur could see that Gwen looked ready to bolt at any second and knew that if he didn't speak to her now, he would probably not get the chance again.

"Guinevere, we have to talk." He reached out a hand to her. "Please." His eyes were imploring.

Unable to refuse him (she told herself that it was because he was the prince and not because she actually wanted to be alone with him) Gwen sat next to him on one of the well-worn wooden benches. "What would you care to talk about, my lord?" Although she asked the question, she wasn't sure that she wanted to know the answer.

Arthur looked deep into the warm depths of her dark eyes. "You, me, what we saw. You being my bride, what we do next, everything."

Gwen unconsciously lifted her hand to her cheek and touched the place he had kissed her as he told her she would marry him.

Arthur frowned a little when he saw the gesture, trying to think why it disconcerted him. Suddenly, he knew why – _THE KISS! THE DREAM! No, no, NOT a dream!! Dear Gods, no wonder she's been avoiding me!_ He groaned inwardly.

"I can't be your princess," said Gwen quietly.

"Why not?" he challenged.

"You know why not – your father for a start."

"He might change is mind." Arthur ignored her doubtful look.

"Then there's us, me. I'd destroy you, destroy Camelot."

"It might not happen." He grinned his boyish, reassuring grin. He wanted to tell her he had fallen for her, had been for a while now and he wanted her to see that he was genuine in his feelings for her. "You need to trust yourself and take a chance."

Gwen looked away from Arthur. "I can't. The risk is too great." His closeness was almost overpowering and combined with the smell of metal and the masculine scent of his physical exertion made her want to surrender to him. She had to get away. "Lady Morgana is waiting, I must go." Gwen hurried to her feet and towards the door. "I'm sorry, my lord…"

"Arthur, call me Arthur."

"_My lord_," Gwen said firmly – she had to maintain her distance, she had to be strong. "It cannot be." With that, the maid left as moisture began to prick her eyes. Before she fled, she heard Arthur call out.

"I meant what I said, you know. You are going to marry me."

* * *

_Stupid, stupid girl! _scolded Gwen to herself. For a moment, she had let down her defences and almost believed Arthur, almost believed that they could have a happy future together. She had had enough of prophecies! What had the seeress said again? Something about making the right decision? Well, if she made sure that she was never in that situation in the first place, she couldn't possibly make the _wrong_ decision, could she?"

But, oh, the knowledge that Arthur, dashing Crown Prince of Camelot, wanted her, a simple maid, gave Gwen delicious tingles and a comforting warmth. It also allowed her to admit to herself that she cared for him in a way a servant should not but as a woman, she really should.

* * *

**Just a short chapter, this time :D **

**Babybee61 – get well soon ; s11235 – hope u enjoyed the arwen moment  
**

**x**


	21. Chapter 21

**Many thanks to my loyal reviewers – it's not just a confidence boost, it tells me if what I'm writing is going right or too much off the track :D xxx

* * *

**

Gaius stood on a short ladder and examined the books which lay on the high shelf, a layer of dust covering each of them. He plucked a green leather-bound volume and used his sleeve to wipe the dust off its cover to reveal the inscription and etching.

It simply read _The Great Dragon_ and embossed upon underneath in gold was a picture of Kilgarrah, wings spread as if in flight. The book had been written a long time ago, chronicling the life and events of the fantastic creature and it had been passed into his safe-keeping by the Dragonlord, Balinor, whom Gaius had helped to escape from Uther's persecution.

The physician climbed down the ladder and seated himself next to a bright candle and flicked open the book. He skimmed page after page until, running an index finger along the words, he paused and read the whole page slowly and carefully, continuing for the next few pages before, at last, setting the book down.

_Alesta and Eirlys_. He knew he'd heard those names before and now he knew why. He hadn't fully believed in their existence but now his doubts had been swept away. If he could find them, he might get the answers to questions he wanted to ask but how to find her?

* * *

The ancient voice hung in the air even after the words had been spoken.

"I never thought I would meet you again, you had declared yourself the king's man."

Head hung low, whether in shame or to gather his thoughts, only Gaius knew but when he spoke his voice was steady. "That is true but I come to ask for your assistance, all the same."

"And what is it you require?" Kilgarrah's voice gave no clues as to his thoughts.

"I wish to know where I might find the seeress Alesta."

"What do you wish from her?"

"To have knowledge of the future, a particular future."

Kilgarrah's voice became a hiss, "And why should I help you? You betrayed dragonkind, you betrayed the dragonlords and you betrayed magic itself. You deserve no help!"

"I did not know what Uther had planned. I believed he would be reasonable, that he would hold true to his word." Gaius's voice was filled with regret. "I did not know."

The Great Dragon snorted in derision. "I did not know," he copied, "that is always the defence of the stupid. I will not betray the confidence of friends, though others might," he added mockingly.

"I cannot change the past, Kilgarrah, but I might be able to help the future. Please, the future of Camelot may well depend on it." When he saw no reaction, he added, "the future of Merlin may well depend on it."

Kilgarrah lowered his neck so that he was virtually eye-to-eye with the physician. "I know Merlin's destiny, your tricks will not work."

"Then tell me, what will become of him if Arthur and Guinevere are never to be united? Will he thrive or will his talents come to nothing?"

There was no reply so Gaius pressed on. "You are Kilgarrah and it is said that you, too, can foretell what is to come. If you can provide me with an answer then I have no need to find Alesta."

As wise and all-knowing as the dragon was, he had no answer for Gaius as he could only see for certain one particular path. Had he been asked about anyone but Merlin, the dragon would simply have flown back up to the heights of the cavern and refused to have any further dealings with his visitor. However, it was not just anybody – it was _Merlin_ and his future was bound up with everyone including Kilgarrah himself.

"Very well," the scaled head bent down and eyes locked on the physician's, he telepathically transferred the knowledge required. When it was done, the dragon rose high in the air with his parting words, "Do not betray her."

* * *

Eirlys idly twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "So, was that it? We have nothing more to do?"

Alesta looked incredulously at her. "_Was that it?_ We nearly got ourselves killed battling a centuries-old witch and you regained your proper form and I got _this_," she tugged at the newly acquired streak of white hair, "and you ask '_Was that it?_'"

The sisters were in the study of Alesta's keep, having returned there to recover from their encounter with Nimueh.

The red-haired woman stuck her tongue out and folded her arms. "Oh, you know what I meant."

The seeress nodded slowly and sighed. "Yes, I suppose so – for the time being anyway. Events must unfold as they will." She crossed over to a sideboard and poured herself a drink of honey wine. "I was thinking of taking a trip away somewhere, perhaps cross the sea and spent some time in some other lands for a while. Care to join me?"

Eirlys grinned enthusiastically. "That sounds like a fine plan and I'm always ready for an adventure. When do we go?"

"Whenever we like, the keep will always be where it is needed and it will take but a moment to travel to where we like."

"Could we not just travel the boring way, on a ship with sails and everything? For once we can pretend that we're normal."

"We _are_ normal, just a bit longer-lived than most." She saw the raised eyebrow and conceded, "Alright, perhaps more than just a bit." The eyebrow stayed lifted. "And with some magical powers."

"Like you said, then. Normal." Eirlys laughed but was interrupted but a stern look on Alesta's face, the elder sister was staring into the middle-distance, a look of concentration in her eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"A summons," she replied, "but not from anyone I know."

"Perhaps a trick by Nimueh?"

"No, I recognise the mark of her magic, this is different and there are only two in this world who know how to call me - you and Kilgarrah - and I know both your signals. It asks me to return to Camelot to meet the caller."

Eirlys looked worried. "It might still be a trick," she maintained.

"Perhaps, but I cannot ignore it, I cannot allow someone to use the summons without knowing who they are."

"Then I'm coming with you. And don't think to stop me, you might be in danger and may well need my help. Let us go now, then. The sooner this is done, the sooner we can get going."

* * *

They appeared in a small forest clearing and awaited Alesta's summoner.

"Why do they always want to use a forest clearing?" sighed Eirlys. "It's so clichéd, like a dark cave or by some mysterious pool. Why can't they go for a nice cosy tavern somewhere with good food and ale?"

The raven-haired woman shrugged. "Don't know, maybe it's just not the right atmosphere for it. Besides, it probably wouldn't look very good if I suddenly materialised next to somebody's beef stew, now would it?" She looked around, at first not noticing the quiet presence of Gaius. "Do we know each other?" her head tilted enquiringly when she did.

"No, I don't believe so. But I have heard of you." Gaius replied. "I am Gaius…"

"Court physician, mentor to Merlin, advisor to the king and one-time magician." Alesta finished his sentence. "You are correct, we do not _know_ each other but we have _heard_ of each other."

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I thank you for coming to meet me." He read the question in her eyes and answered it with a single word. "Kilgarrah."

"I see, you must be important if he told you how." She studied him, curious as to how he could have swayed the Great Dragon who had sworn never to reveal the method of summoning her to anyone.

"Not I," disagreed Gaius, "but Merlin. The boy is of importance to him, he believes their destinies are somehow entwined. I asked you to come here because I must know what lies ahead for Merlin. Does his future rely on those of Arthur and Guinevere's?"

Under the stares of both women, the physician experienced a prickling sensation all over and felt as though his skin was being peeled back to reveal the spirit and soul that lay beneath, to discover if he was worthy of being told. Although the looks were not unfriendly as such, when they finally ended, he felt as though he had been stripped bare and all of his secrets made known – which they were.

Alesta and Eirlys shared a last look.

"You may as well make it quick, it's a long journey. We sail with the morning tide and I haven't finished packing yet." The younger woman puffed a breath of air out of the corner of her mouth to blow away a stray strand of hair.

"Very well. I shall, as my sister says, make it quick. Yes, Merlin's future is linked to Kilgarrah's and also to Arthur's. Should the prince become king and rule with Guinevere at his side, Merlin will be great, perhaps the greatest magician that ever lived. He will guide the return of magic to Camelot and reassure its people of its benefits."

"And if Guinevere is not queen?"

"Then Merlin will not be quite so great. He will live but magic will not be so welcome here. He will leave Camelot and his travels will keep him from Camelot," intoned Alesta gravely.

"And all because Arthur will not take Guinevere as queen?" Gaius couldn't quite believe it.

"Indeed. For all that Arthur is the more tolerant of the Pendragons, his father's prejudices are also his to some extent. After all, he has had them drummed into his brain all his life and his principles and duty require that he obeys his father's will – in most things. It is Guinevere who will help to open Arthur's mind and let him see how, if you'll pardon the pun, magical magic can be if put to the right purposes. It is she who will pave the way for Merlin to use his powers to their full effect."

* * *

"Where are we going now?" grumbled Alesta. "You're the one who said we shouldn't delay."

"Please, humour me. Just one last visit before we go." Eirlys walked swiftly through the two-tiered city and found the people she was looking for.

**0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0**

"Lady Alesta?" Arthur's brain remembered the name of the tall, dignified woman who was Gran-gran's niece. "What are you doing here?" She was the last person he expected to see again. Beside him, Merlin looked at her in wondrous fascination. He could sense there was something different, something other-worldly about her. of course, Arthur had filled him in on what had occurred when she had last visited but it was something else to actually see her in person.

"Gran-gran asked us to come to see how you were, to make sure that you were keeping well," interrupted Eirlys.

It was the first time that Arthur paid much attention to the other woman and he kicked himself for not having done so sooner. He was struck by the sight of the beautiful, copper-haired woman whose green eyes sparkled with humour and mischief.

Alesta barely kept from rolling her eyes as she told him. "My sister, Lady Eirlys."

"I'm charmed to meet you." He took her hand and lifted it to his lips in a courtly kiss. "I see that beauty runs deep in the family." As attractive as Alesta was, she had an air of aloofness about her that kept him from trying his luck with her in the same way as he was with Eirlys now.

"Thank you, our grandmother and her sister were quite the beauties in their time," she smiled warmly and ignored the mock-retching sounds that Alesta was making in her head.

Merlin, in the meantime, had gotten past his awe of the ladies and now regarded his master with mild disbelief at his actions. Arthur had just been told of his connection to Gwen and here he was trying to win over another woman! Fortunately, the Lady Eirlys did not appear to take up the unspoken offer by Arthur. Instead, both women stayed for a brief time to assure them that Gran-gran was well and apologised for not being able to visit herself then bade their farewells, pleading an early start in the morning.

* * *

Eirlys giggled all the way back to the keep. "Oooh, just imagine!. Mind you, if not for Gran-gran, I might have considered it."

"Eewww, Lys! You're old enough to be his grandmother at least twice over!" Her sister pulled a disgusted expression.

"Yes," she grinned, "what fun!"

"Yuck, enough of that," berated Alesta. "Go finish your packing like you said, we've a long journey ahead."


	22. Chapter 22

Gwen let out a yelp as she felt hands reach out and grab her as she hurried through the market place. Not being a woman to let herself be taken captive without a fight, the maid struck out with her elbows and aimed firm kicks at the assailant behind her and felt many of her blows land on her target.

"Arghh, stop that! Gwen, ouch, Gwen, it's me, Gwen… GUINEVERE!" Arthur finally bellowed, no longer worried about trying to be discreet.

On hearing the voice, Gwen wasn't even surprised, she was beginning to get used to being accosted by Camelot's prince – instead she was annoyed and she forgot all about protocol and appropriate behaviour, especially when Arthur was hardly behaving appropriately.

"What do you think you're playing at?" she snapped at him.

Taken aback, this was not the reaction that he expected from her. "I, uh, just wanted to see you?" Arthur replied lamely. "It's been quite a while since we last spoke."

"You've no right to keep doing this, you can't just go around jumping on people when ever you feel like it!"

"Well, um, actually I can," he grinned at her in an attempt to lighten her mood. It didn't work.

"Don't be facetious. Have you considered that I might not actually _want_ to see you?" she glared at him.

Crestfallen, Arthur stepped back from Gwen and studied her anxiously. "Really?" It hadn't ever occurred to him before that somebody might not want to know him. He was Prince Arthur, _everybody _wanted to know, people actively went out of their way to know him! Any servant would be over the moon to have such attention from him lavished on them – well, any servant that was except Merlin and Gwen apparently.

"Yes, really." She wasn't all that sure she meant it but if it safe-guarded the future, then that was how it would have to be.

Arthur was sharp enough to see the hesitation behind her words and he made a decision. He took her firmly by the arm and pulled her after him to his horse which he mounted and half-dragged her up behind him, shushing any protests.

He tapped his heels to his horse's flanks and cantered out of the city gates. Arthur deliberately spurred his horse faster than necessary to make Gwen tighten her hold about his waist.

"Where are you taking me?" she shouted into his ear.

He didn't reply and ignored her jab to his ribs. Unable to do anything but cling to him to avoid falling off, Gwen set her mouth in a grim line, ready to launch her next verbal volley when they finally stopped. The ride seemed to go on forever and she began to relax into the motion of the journey and the warmth of the muscled body in front of her. When they finally came to a halt, Gwen awoke with a start and was embarrassed to find Arthur looking over his shoulder at her, a gentle expression on his face. She hurriedly lifted her face from his back and quickly hopped off the horse. Arthur followed her dismount and led his steed to a patch of grass before guiding her to an almost non-existent trail which they followed into the forest. She lost track of time as she concentrated on following Arthur who eventually stopped without warning.

* * *

Gwen looked around warily. They were in what could only be described as a leafy hollow space which was so well-hidden from view that it had a sheltered, sanctuary-like quality about it. "What is this place?" She didn't feel threatened, just curious. Gwen noticed that Arthur's demeanour had noticeably changed. He had become somehow softer, younger and less guarded.

"I used to come here as a child." Arthur walked slowly around the small space, his eyes drawn by memories to different parts of the leafy shelter. He smiled in reminiscence at a fallen log which had served as seating all those years ago. "It was a hidey-hole, a place to run to when I didn't want to be a prince anymore. Father would never be able to find me, nobody would." He turned to face her. "I could be myself, with no-one to judge me or tell me off for not being princely enough."

Gwen could only look at him silently, what could she say to that? It would be ridiculous to tell him that she understood, how could she? For all that she was 'just a servant', she had never felt the need to not be herself and if she was honest, she hadn't really given a second thought to his childhood – he was a prince, given whatever he wanted, how could anyone think to feel sorry for him?

"Guinevere, tell me truthfully, what do you see when you look at me?" He was deadly serious as he asked his question and it scared her to be in such a position as this. She could tell that her answer would be taken to heart and she wasn't at all sure she wanted that responsibility but Arthur was waiting for her answer.

"Um, well, you're Prince Arthur and uh," she shook her head helplessly. "I don't know what you want to hear."

"I don't want you to say what you think I want you to say, I want you to say what you think." Arthur had never wanted anyone's opinion of him before and it was frightening how important hers was to him. "Please."

Gwen chewed her lower lip as she thought. The Arthur who stood before her now was far removed from the Arthur that the rest of the world knew. At the moment, he was looking at her as if the future of the world, his world, rested in the palm of her hand.

She took a deep breath. "You're a prince. You are spoilt, arrogant and stubborn and self-absorbed."

Arthur's face paled at the bluntness of her words and he was beginning to regret asking her to be honest with him.

Dark brown eyes softened as she continued to gaze at him. "You're also thoughtful, kind and generous but you don't let anyone see it. You treat servants like they're nothing and yet you also want all people to be treated justly." Gwen fidgeted with the end of a long curly lock of hair as she summed up with, "You confuse me."

The blond prince scuffed at a pile of fallen leaves. "I see," he began slowly before pausing and lifting his head to lock his sapphire eyes on her. "Given all of that, do you, um, think you might, uh…" He couldn't quite finish his question, embarrassed at even the thought of it but he had to know and Gwen was regarding him confusion. "Can you see yourself with me?" he blurted out as he averted his eyes, mortified at his lack of finesse. "Because I would, uh, like you to be." He felt as awkward as a farm-boy in the presence of a fairytale princess.

Gwen's heart leapt into her throat when she heard the words. Of course, there had been the hints and clues of his actions in the past but since she had been avoiding him, she thought he must have forgotten about such flights of fancy but it seemed he had not. Moreover, she never allowed herself to think like that, it was too far-fetched and could only lead to a disappointment and heartache if she did. But. But here he was, confronting her, his questions demanding that she answered and therein lay her struggles.

"My lord, I…I don't know what to say." Her brain seemed to go blank and she noticed that he gave her no help but instead, just watched for her reaction. "It isn't realistic, it's not possible." Everything in her mind screamed at her to leave now, to not even entertain the question.

"That wasn't what I asked, I asked if you could see yourself with me. I want to know if you think you could love me." Arthur prayed to the heavens that he would never have to relive a moment like this again, he was practically begging her to love him. _Gods, I'm pathetic!_ However, he thought about her all the time, dreamt about her and it was driving him crazy and he had to know if she felt anything similar for him.

The maid lowered herself to the grassy ground, her legs didn't feel able to support her anymore. There was silence for a while as she soul-searched and he waited. Finally, she spoke a single word.

"Yes."


	23. Chapter 23

"You're not serious?" Gwen shook her head at the sight of the dark and foreboding cave mouth in front of her. "There might be bears or something in there!" Her long soft curls now hung straight as water streamed from her hair.

Overhead, thunder rumbled and lightning crackled to set the dark sky ablaze with white fire as rain teemed down upon the heads of Camelot's prince and the servant girl of the King's Ward.

"We don't have a choice," shouted Arthur above the noise of the storm. "We're still too far from home and it's too dangerous to travel!" As if to punctuate his point, another streak of lightning struck a nearby sapling and exploded it into a shower of shards and flames. They ducked and turned their backs to avoid getting hit by the debris whilst trying to hold onto their horses' reins as they reared in fright. They had been forced to dismount some distance ago as the ground became too slippery and dangerous and it was safer to simply lead their mounts. "Besides, if the storm doesn't get us, pneumonia will!"

Arthur walked into the cave's entrance and fumbled in the pouch which hung at his side to take out a flint and steel along with some horses hoof fungus. With numb fingers, it took him a few tries to create enough sparks to light the fungus. He then bent down to scrabble around the cave floor until his hand finally grasped a branch that was dry enough to catch light. Looking over his shoulder at his companion, he beckoned to her and unable to argue, she followed him in.

* * *

After the development and change of their relationship, Arthur and Gwen had taken tentative steps to get to know each other better and on the previous day had made arrangements to make a trip together on the pretext of another charitable visit to outlying farms and homesteads.

They had, indeed, gone to see the relevant farmers and workers and their presence had been appreciated, giving people a sense of hope and reassurance that their monarch cared about his people. However, the majority of their day had been spent talking as they travelled and when they stopped for a rest, Arthur discovered Gwen's playful side as she challenged him to a tree-climbing competition. He hadn't taken her seriously at first since long dresses weren't the most practical of tree-climbing garb but he had definitely been taken by surprise when she briefly turned her back to him to tuck up the hem of her dress and proceeded to clamber up a tall elm. He paused for a moment to admire the view of her shapely calves before his competitive spirit kicked in and he quickly scaled the other side of the trunk.

Like children, they spent the best part of the late afternoon and early evening sitting high amongst the branches discussing everything from cloud shapes and birds to sharing treasured stories and memories. It brought them ever closer together and it was only the reminder of their responsibilities as adults that forced them down from their perch to make their way back.

Unfortunately, they hadn't gone very far when the clouds turned an ominous shade of grey then the sky darkened even further and then the rain started. Big fat droplets splashed the ground then quickly became so heavy that it was as if a solid sheet of water had suddenly been placed on and around them and then the thunder and lightning arrived.

Summer storms were common but a storm this heavy was most unusual and it quickly made travel treacherous.

* * *

They left the horses underneath an overhang close to the entrance whilst they ventured further in, surprised at the depth of the cave which opened into a fair-sized cavern which effectively sheltered them from the weather. More comfortingly for Gwen, there was no sign that any fierce creatures inhabited the refuge. Through some stroke of luck, there was enough dry brush and sticks scattered around to build a fire.

They were both soaked to the skin and in the firelight, Arthur could see that Gwen had begun to shiver and he heard her teeth chatter together as she hugged her arms around herself. He went back to the horses and thanked Merlin, most gratefully, that the sorcerer had the presence of mind to pack their supplies in leather bags specially treated to be weatherproof and they had resisted the storm enough that the blankets and food inside were only slightly damp.

Arthur knew they had to get dry and warm quickly if they weren't to die their death of cold. He held out a blanket to Gwen and coughed embarrassedly.

"Um, Guinevere, we need to get our clothes dry or we'll get ill." He nodded intently at her and her eyes widened as she gathered his meaning and she was gratefully that he couldn't see her blush in the dim light. She wasn't so innocent as to not realise the truth of his words, she had lost childhood friends to the ravages of the cold and wet and she knew what she had to do in spite of any awkwardness she might feel.

Arthur politely turned his back as Gwen retreated further back into the shadows. He couldn't help but listen to the sounds of wet clothing being peeled off and his mind wandered, imagining the look and feel of what lay beneath the sodden material.

Eventually, Gwen's voice called out to him, "Er, I'm finished." She reappeared in front of him and he was taken by how quietly dignified she looked despite being wrapped only in a blanket, wet hair swept down her back.

"My turn then," he said and took Gwen's place in the shadows as she obligingly looked away.

Her mouth became dry when Arthur emerged, clothes in one hand, blond hair tousled in an attempt to dry it. This was nothing if not a compromising situation and in times of stress, Gwen did what she knew best – she became terribly practical.

"We need to find something to dry our clothes on," she busied herself by searching for something she could improvise into a drying rack. It was quickly apparent that the search was fruitless what with it being a cave so she settled for arranging some rocks together and spread their clothing out next to the small fire as best she could.

Rummaging in the bag, she drew out the moderate food supply they had taken and carefully portioned it out before handing over Arthur's share. He took one look at it and startled her by saying, "That's not right."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Sire, this is all we have before we reach home tomorrow, I have done what I can with it."

"That's not what I meant, Guinevere." He broke off a section and pushed it back to the maid. As ever, she had left herself with only meagre rations while she gave him the vast majority of food.

"My lord, you need to eat more than me," protested Gwen trying to hand the food back.

"Perhaps, but not at this precise moment." He sighed knowing what he had to do and adopting his most imperious tone told her, "I order you to eat properly. It is a royal command."

She fixed him with dark brown eyes before biting her lip to keep from laughing aloud although Arthur caught the way her eyes danced with merriment and he looked at her with confusion. Finally she giggled.

"I'm sorry, my lord, it's just that I can't take you seriously when you're, you know, dressed in a blanket."

Arthur conceded the point and joined in her laughter before they settled to eat in companionable silence but with the added difficulty of trying to keep their blankets from falling open as they moved. One careless lift of the arm or unthinking shift of the leg and it could have spelt disaster – or success, depending on your point of view – for either of them.

With their simple meal finished, the tricky topic of sleeping arrangements reared its head. Despite the season, the thunderstorm continued to rage outside and the temperature had dropped sufficiently to be cooler than was comfortable. Arthur and Gwen had scraped together what dry brush and twigs they could but the supply was sparse and the already-small fire would not last throughout the night.

"You should sleep next to the fire," instructed Arthur. "I'll keep watch." Without saying anything more, he picked up his sword and moved closer to the cave door and arranged himself as comfortably as he could.

Behind him, Gwen shifted and pulled the blanket tightly around her before lying down and closing her eyes as she gently called out, "Goodnight, my lord."

"Goodnight, Guinevere."

* * *

Arthur watched the rain lash down but would look every so often to see Gwen's small form lying still apart from the gentle rising and falling of her even breathing. It took quite a bit of self-control to prevent him from going over and laying down next to her to investigate what was underneath the thin layer of wool covering her. He was, after all, a man and the object of his affection was within reach but he was very conscious of the fact that Gwen deserved more respect than that and he would wait for her for as long as she needed.

He must have nodded off because when he woke, the rain had ceased and the cave was now in darkness, the fire having burnt out a while ago. The sky remained dark but there was a faint glow on the horizon which heralded the coming dawn. A rustling behind him and a hand on his shoulder made him jump and he whirled round to meet Gwen's eyes shining brightly in the dark.

"Gwen!" he exclaimed. He then checked around her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, my lord," her voice was barely above a whisper. "I couldn't sleep and I was cold. The clothes haven't dried yet." She had started to shiver again and instinctively, Arthur pulled her close to him, hoping that their shared body warmth would help.

Gwen tensed at first as she felt her back brought against his chest. Her breathing quickened as she was pressed against his muscled torso and his strong arms wrapped themselves about her. As his warmth spread through her, she relaxed and laid her head in the hollow of his neck. Her hair had dried back into their soft curls and Arthur smelt the scent of what he could only describe as rain and grass.

The blond man felt at peace with the woman he had fallen for in his arms with the world being the grey rock walls surrounding them. He thought that the maid had fallen asleep again but then she said very softly, "Thank you."

"What for?" he asked curiously.

"For keeping me safe."

He could almost sense her smile as he replied, "I'll always keep you safe."

Gwen turned in his arms and looked him straight in the eyes and held his gaze for what seemed like an eternity. Silent questions and answers were asked and exchanged in that one look. Like magnets, they were drawn to each other and their lips closed the space between them in a warm, deep kiss which expressed all the emotions they held for each other.

As arms moved to hold each other more tightly, blankets slid from bodies. Hands caressed soft curves, hard muscle and smooth skin as they kissed with more urgency. Still holding Gwen securely in his arms, Arthur straightened the blankets beneath them and carefully laid her down upon them. They were both breathing more heavily and the maid reached her arms up to pull the prince down towards her.

"Guinevere, are you sure?" Blue eyes were full of concern even as every fibre of Arthur's being hoped that she would reply in the affirmative.

Gwen had never been more sure in her life and she was certain that he was the man she wanted to share her life and her body with.

"Yes, Arthur."

Hearing his name from her lips rather than the usual 'my lord' nearly pushed him over the edge and he made a deliberate effort to take his time to allow Gwen to savour and enjoy this special night.

* * *

_**Lots of lovely thanks to everyone continuing to review and follow this fic :D xx**_

_**I'm moving Arwen along a bit and reckon that I will end this particular saga in another couple of chapters**_

_**xxx**_


	24. Chapter 24

**Note: this chapter goes to s11235 for her continued support and encouragement throughout this fic over the many months it has taken to get this far. It contains many of her suggestions for the story due to the absence of my muse for this one!**

**Also a shout goes to alwaysadreamer963 who has been very kind in her reviewing.**

**Not least, I give lots of grateful thanks to everyone who has been reviewing, putting this fic on alerts and favourites and generally following it. It is always appreciated :D**

**Now, that's the end of what appears to be an extremely lame Oscars speech but is meant with sincerity :p**

**On with the story…

* * *

**

Merlin shifted anxiously from foot to foot as he watched from the high battlements, looking for any sign of his two friends returning. The morning had dawned bright and clear after the previous night's torrential storm which had left the household worried for the safety of its prince and to a lesser extent, the Lady Morgana's maid when they had not returned as expected.

The sorcerer had resisted the urge to use magic to locate them, especially with the number of people milling around the castle as they awaited the return of Arthur so with that in mind, all he could really do was pace and watch and pace some more.

Finally, after Gaius had warned him that he was about to wear out the stone, there was another sound of hooves on the drawbridge and this time, the figures of the two people he had been waiting for appeared and he sprinted down as quickly as he could to greet them.

"Arthur, Gwen, you're alright!" gasped an out-of-breath Merlin to his two bedraggled-looking friends.

"Course we're alright," snorted Arthur in his customary way. "You didn't think a bit of rain would get the better of us, did you?" He dismounted neatly before moving to help Gwen off her horse. This action did not go unnoticed by Merlin as it was normal for servants to help their masters and definitely not the other way round.

It also seemed to him that the prince kept a longer grip on the maid's waist than was strictly necessary and he did not miss the look that passed between them before they seemed to remember where they were and they quickly broke apart.

A patter of footsteps approaching heralded the arrival of Gaius.

"Sire, are you well? We have been most worried about you. Come, we must check you over." The physician bustled around like a mother hen and ushered the prince towards his laboratory chamber. Gaius looked over his shoulder and called to Gwen, "I will need to have a look at you as well afterwards."

* * *

"Deep breath in," ordered Gaius as he placed the listening device against Arthur's chest and there was silence for a few moments as he pressed his ear against the earpiece. Arthur could only watch, with mild bemusement, Gaius's eyebrows waggle as he gauged the sounds he listened to.

"Well?" asked Arthur when the physician told him that the examination was complete.

"It would appear that you are in perfect health, my lord."

"Told you so," grinned Arthur as he stood up and made to leave.

"My lord, if I might have a moment?" enquired Gaius.

"Of course, Gaius. What is it?"

"It's…ah…a matter of some delicacy." Gaius's voice softened appropriately as he gestured for Arthur to sit again before he, himself, took a seat across from him.

"I see, well, I will be sure to be the soul of discretion." Arthur was curiously amused by the serious look on the older man's face. "What might this delicate matter be about?"

"Well… it's about you and Gwen," Gaius paused, waiting for Arthur's reaction which was swift to come.

"Merlin!" exclaimed Arthur indignantly. "Wait 'til I get my hands on him…"

Gaius held out his hands placatingly. "No, sire, do not blame the boy. Although I had little doubt as to his level of knowledge, it was not he who told me of the, er, situation."

"Then who?" demanded Arthur.

"Gwen."

The answer was not what the prince expected and it rendered him speechless.

"She came to me for advice, she didn't who to turn to," explained Gaius.

"What did she say?" asked Arthur when he found his voice.

"She told me of the prophecy and of the sisters Alesta and Eirlys."

"Oh."

"She also told me of her feelings and now I must ask you, are your feelings for her true?" Rheumy blue eyes fixed onto sapphire ones.

Despite the intensity of Gaius's stare, Arthur sat still and when he answered, he burned with sincerity. "Yes, they are. Gaius, I love her."

Gaius nodded more to himself than to Arthur. "Very well, it will be so," he murmured quietly. A thought came to him, then. "Arthur, sire, you met the Lady Alesta and the Lady Eirlys. Was not your nursemaid's elderly aunt named Eirlys?"

Arthur wrinkled his nose. "Yes, but it is not unusual."

"No, it isn't but it is not so common these days, either."

"Perhaps it is a name passed through the family."

Gaius tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, perhaps it is."

The prince stood again. "If that is all?"

"Oh, yes, quite. Thank you... and Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"Do not be too concerned about your father when the time comes. He might be stuck in his ways but he has not forgotten what it is to be in love." Gaius smiled encouragingly at him.

Arthur pondered this for a second before returning a wry smile of his own. "Thank you, Gaius."

* * *

As Merlin started the laborious task of clearing away Arthur's bath things, the prince lounged in a deeply cushioned chair, bare feet propped up on a table. Even though his posture was relaxed, he was more than aware of the suspicious side-long looks that his friend kept shooting in his direction. When, for what seemed like the thousandth time the servant looked away when Arthur glanced at him, the blond man had had enough.

"Alright Merlin, spit it out."

"Sire?" Merlin averted his gaze, feigning innocence.

"You obviously have something on your mind so just say it. I won't bite." By this point, Arthur had got up out of the chair and was now standing in front of the darker man and Merlin wasn't so sure about the prince not biting. "Well?" Arthur stood with a hand on his hip.

Realising that Arthur was not going to let up now he had started, Merlin took a cautious step back as he spoke.

"Did something happen with you and Gwen while you were away?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's kind of important, don't you think? Considering what we know."

The prince didn't speak as he weighed up what to say and in the meantime, Merlin was beginning to regret his inquisitiveness.

Eventually, Arthur said simply, "Yes, something happened."

This was very strange to Merlin who was used to his friend boasting about his conquests and who was the one who often had to stop the prince from divulging private details which would cause embarrassment to the lady in question.

What was also giving Merlin cause for concern and amusement was the beautific smile on Arthur's face and the vacant expression in his eyes as his mind had clearly travelled to another place and time.

"I take it that the 'something' was good?"

Arthur's voice had a distant quality as he said, "Oh yes, _very, very_ good."

The reply was more in keeping with the Arthur that Merlin knew and it left the sorcerer with little doubt about what had taken place. The brown haired man felt a shudder run down his slender frame. He _really, really_ had no desire to know the gory details of an encounter between his two best friends. Yeuchh!

"Well, at least things are going well with you two then. You know, Arthur, I think everything is going to work out just fine for us all."

The prince regarded Merlin with a mixture of admiration and envy. Somehow, he always seemed to be able to view every situation he came across with optimism and hope despite of the odds facing him whereas he, Arthur, had been trained to treat the same situations with a brutal realism that verged on the pessimistic.

However, at this time, Arthur had to concede that Merlin might well be right but just in case, he would maintain keeping a wary eye out for the return of Lancelot!

* * *

**And so, dear readers, the end is nigh with just one more chapter to go! **_**AT LAST**_**, you're probably thinking :p**

**I am the first to admit that there is a rushed air about this chapter and that is entirely due to the brick wall I have been hitting on the inspiration front for this fic. Therefore, I give my apologies and hope it has not disappointed too much.**

**oh, a quick word about the 'listening device' aka 'early stethescope' for anyone who might be interested (i'm a bit of a science geek that way) - having looked at the earliest versions, they resemble primitive ear trumpets with a long tube and large listening disc/cone on the end.**

**i also know that they weren't invented until the early 1800s but what the heck, this is Camelot where magical things happen :D  
**


	25. Chapter 25

Gwen was pottering about in Gaius's laboratory as she waited for the physician to appear with the latest sleeping draught to help Morgana to sleep nightmare-free. She watched the glass beakers bubble over small flames and drip interestingly coloured liquids from little tubes into equally little glass bottles. The maid never ceased to be fascinated by all the things happening in the laboratory and because Gaius was pleased that someone so young took a sincere interest in his work, he was happy to let her wander freely in his private workplace.

She peered at the open pages of a book on rare herbs and read with interest the little annotations that had been added in the older man's neat script. Beside a picture of a violet flower with long, almost needle-like petals, he had written _Good for fever. Only found in winter. Goats like them._ Gwen smiled to herself as she continued looking at the items on the long bench-like table. It was the usual collection of parchment and quills, the odd magnifying glass and books. However, what did catch her eye was a book that she hadn't seen before, brown and nondescript with no title, Gwen opened the pages and read.

* * *

Gaius spoke as he opened the door to his laboratory.

"Gwen, I've brought Morgana's sleeping draught. Sorry, I was caught up with Leon…" He stopped as he realised that the young woman was no longer where he had asked her to wait for him. It also did not take him long to notice the empty space on his table where not so long ago, a book had lain. Gaius furrowed his brow as he considered the implications of this but after some consideration, he decided that Gwen had a sensible head on her shoulders and he was content to see how events played out.

* * *

She knew she shouldn't have taken it but coming across the book that had impacted so greatly on her life and the lives of Arthur and Merlin, she couldn't help herself. Having gained permission from Morgana to take the afternoon off, Gwen tucked herself away in her little house and continued to read.

It was the evening when she finally felt she had sufficiently digested the information contained in the book. To Gwen, it was still veering on the fantastical side but she could not ignore the fact that Arthur set a lot of store by it and seemed to base many of the decisions he made which affected them on what he knew from the prophecy.

She scowled at the book. It had been both a blessing and a curse – the former because it had brought forth her and Arthur's true feelings for each other and the latter because it seemed she couldn't move for fear that her slightest actions might have repercussions on the future. At the moment, she felt like she was constantly balanced on a cliff edge and a wrong step would send her over the precipice.

The maid had placed the book on one side of her home and she eyed it warily from the other, as if at any moment, it would come alive.

Gwen found it hard to believe that such an innocuous looking book could have such an impact and the more she mulled over the situation, the more she began to fume and the more she began to fume she came to the realisation that she felt as if she were being held to ransom – by a book!

If there was one thing that her young life had taught Gwen so far was that in spite of what her station in society might be, what independence she had was to be guarded and protected – that, as far as possible, she would live her life as she wanted and that certainly did not include being told what to do by an inanimate object.

With her mind now made up, Gwen strode purposefully over to pick up the book and tucking it in the folds of her cloak, she went out to the forge where she pumped the bellows onto the fire until a fierce flame blazed. One last look at the leather-bound volume and Gwen tossed it into the centre of the fire where immediately, parchment crackled and curled in the intense heat before quickly burning and shrivelling to ashes.

There was a hint of regret as she turned from the fire as she realised that the world had forever lost a unique and remarkable item but she also knew that it was necessary in order for the lives of those people affected to continue as normally as possible. Gwen, for one, knew she didn't want to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, wondering if what she was doing would bring her one step closer to destroying everything she loved.

* * *

Merlin had been hunting frantically through the quarters that he shared with the physician and when Gaius entered, Merlin looked anxiously at him.

"Gaius, have you seen that book I showed you? The, um, _important_ one? I can't find it anywhere!"

The young sorcerer breathed a sigh of relief when he was answered with a nod but the sensation disappeared when Gaius continued, "but I don't have it anymore."

"What? Where is it?" The look of panic was almost comical if not for Merlin's genuine distress.

"Calm down, Merlin," said Gaius soothingly. "It is in safe-keeping." _Or at least I hope it is._

"How do you know? What if it were to fall into the wrong hands?" Merlin's voice had risen higher.

"It has not and is highly unlikely to ever be found again." If Gaius knew Gwen as well as he thought he did, he was fairly certain that she would make sure it would never come to light again.

"But who has it?"

"Someone I would trust with my life." Gaius was not going to give up their name and Merlin opened his mouth to demand an answer. However, the older man fixed him with a stern look and shook his head with finality. "Be at peace, my boy, no others shall know of the prophecy. I promise you that." He picked up phial of green liquid and a small pot of a floral-smell salve. "Now, I must go and give these to Sir Leon. The poor fellow's been taking a few knocks on the training field these last few days. See if you can't clean out that leech tank while I'm gone."

"But I only cleaned it out last week!" protested Merlin.

"The leeches must be kept in fresh water if they aren't to do more harm than good." With that, Gaius swept out to leave a dismayed Merlin glaring at the aforementioned tank.

* * *

With Gaius brooking no argument, Merlin slumped his shoulders as he moved to collect the bucket and cleaning cloths but paused when he spotted the corner of a green-bound book underneath a couple of volumes which he was already familiar with. Thinking it to be another book of herbs which he took an interest in, he pulled it out and was surprised to see an embossed picture of a large dragon on the cover. All thoughts of cleaning left him as Merlin sat on the floor he had been standing on and began to read.

With the aid of a little magic, he hastened the speed of his reading but slowed down when he got three quarters of the way through and had to go back a few chapters. When he had re-read them, he turned back to where he had stopped and read over that section again. He did this twice more before he was satisfied he had understood correctly the first time around. Many pages later, he found what he had been hoping for and he began to chuckle to himself. He was still chuckling when Gaius later returned to find him in the midst of re-filling the leech tank, a job which usually gave Merlin a gloomy expression. When he enquired as to the source of the amusement, Merlin answered only by pointing towards the open pages of a book which Gaius, himself, had never actually finished reading.

The pages showed coloured pictures of people. On the left-hand side was a tall, elegant woman with amber eyes and midnight hair with a shock of white. Beneath it was a caption that read, _The seeress Lady Alesta._ On the right-hand page were two figures, one of a willowy woman with emerald eyes and rich red hair. Next to her was an aged female form with a wizened face, wispy white hair hunched over a knobbly stick. The caption below them stated, _The ranger Lady Eirlys before and after relinquishing longevity._

Gaius smiled a knowing smile to himself and picked up the book to flick to the end and found the remaining pages to be blank. The volume had yet to be finished.

It seemed that Arthur and Guinevere were not the only ones to have had their futures written about.

* * *

**Well, that concludes this fic which has been both trying and interesting in equal measure to write. Again, my thanks to everyone who has been following and hope that this last chapter has been ok for you.**

**Please review. Thanks :)  
**

**xx**


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